


Íncubo

by lily_zen



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 74,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_zen/pseuds/lily_zen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake Jensen is a college student at MIT. He goes on Spring Break with his kooky roommates to Mazatlan, and meets this super hot bartender who calls himself Cougar. Now, Cougar is no ordinary bartender: he's half-incubus, which means he's doomed to feed off the sexual energy of his partners. Fantasy, romance, drama, and angst abound. (The other characters from The Losers don't play major roles here. However, there are some cameos.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book One: Prologue to Part Two

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: M

Warnings: guy on guy

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: Remember My Enemy, My Friend? Well, this is the story that little ditty got chopped from. Now it’s an all-out AU instead of an Army-AU. It will be posted in multiple parts.

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Prologue_

 

 

When Cougar was a child and all anybody had ever called him was Carlos or Carlito, he would sit on his mama’s lap late at night before bed and she would tell him stories about anything and everything under the sun. It was their ritual. Being the only boy in a family of five and the oldest to boot, Carlos had learned to be quiet and unassuming and rather independent early on. It was better than trying to compete with his boisterous sisters for attention. His reward for that was the time he spent listening to his mother’s tales before bed. Sometimes she would brush his dark, thick hair as she spoke and he would fall asleep right there listening to fantastic tales of spirits and demons and the afterlife. His mama had learned from her mama to have a healthy respect and yes, even fear, for things you could not see, and she had passed it down to Cougar in the form of his religious upbringing and those unforgettable bedtime stories.

 

There was one particular story that Carlos recalled asking to hear again and again. It was the tale of the íncubo, the love demon. Now, one would think that would be a highly inappropriate tale for a seven year old, and it would have been had his mama been completely accurate. After all, incubi were sex demons, not love demons. However, she toned it down for a child in the way parents often do (“…and when a man and a woman love each other, they make a baby,”). The tale of how the íncubo took over a man’s body and fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the village, even going so far as to fight her intended and make off with the girl, was his favorite. He loved hearing his mama describe the battle between the men and how the girl gradually began to love the demon back. She would always finish the story by pressing her lips to Carlos’ forehead and whispering, “Mi Carlos, tu eres especial. Nunca olvide eso. Ahora va a dormir, mi hijo.” _My Carlos, you are special. Never forget that. Now go to sleep, my son._

 

It had never occurred to Carlos that perhaps the story was more than entertainment; that maybe it was a warning, that maybe it was true. He didn’t understand until he hit puberty that maybe he really was special. Puberty, of course, brought with it the usual hormonal shifts and physical growth spurts. Carlos began to change a little later than the rest of his friends, staying relatively small and child-like until fourteen. That was a rough year. Carlos was tired all the time, ravenously hungry, and his temper was waspish.

 

Then at fifteen, he lost his virginity and all of those problems started to go away. He liked sex and apparently he was good at it, so Carlos made a point of engaging in the activity often and with as many different partners as possible. His sisters were appalled when they started hearing rumors about their brother’s promiscuity, but his mama never said a word about it, reprimand or otherwise. His father merely handed him a box of condoms and ordered him to be safe.

 

Things proceeded to run smoothly for the next two years, and Carlos was still none the wiser about his dubious parentage. He had no idea that his sexual appetite was anything but normal, even when his friends admitted that they could hardly keep up with the way Carlos went through women, or rather girls at that time, and he never told them that in a pinch men would do as well. Then he became ill enough that he could do nothing but lie in bed for two whole weeks, and it seemed the longer he lay there, the weaker he got, but he persisted in waiting to get better, ignoring the warning signals his body was sending to him until late one night his mama came to his bedside.

 

She sat next to him and stroked his sweat-damp hair away from his forehead and told him the story of the íncubo all over again. It had been years since she had last sat with Carlos and told him bedtime stories. He had grown out of such habits around eleven or twelve, and he had almost forgotten about them altogether. Her quiet voice seemed to penetrate his fever-haze as she told him of the incubus who possessed a man and then decided he wanted a particular young woman, the most beautiful girl in the village, as his next meal. However, this girl was already promised to another, and so to eliminate the possible threat to his claim, the demon killed her betrothed and absconded with the young woman.

 

They traveled for many miles until the demon’s hunger finally overcame his need to protect his food source, and he raped the virgin girl out in the open under the stars, over and over ‘til she prayed she would die. This was not the romanticized tale he had heard in his childhood, but in his delirium Carlos was more fascinated with this version of events than he had ever been by the other. When the incubus had fed enough, he forced the girl to begin moving again and they headed towards the city where it would be easy to get lost in the crush of bodies. About a mile or so outside of the city limits, the incubus’ driving need to feast took over again and the girl begged with tears running down her dirty face for it to end.

 

Then a miracle happened and the demon was forced out of the man’s body, leaving him filled with terror and sorrow. He collapsed next to the girl when he realized what he had done under the influence of the incubus and he cried and prayed to god for forgiveness. The girl touched his hunched shoulders and he flinched away, but she persisted until he turned to look at her.

 

She told him it wasn’t his fault, and he bit out a sharp laugh. After some time, the pair walked the rest of the way to the city where the man paid for a room at a motel. They both had hot showers and a meal and tried not to think about what had happened to them. No one would believe such a fantastic tale. It wasn’t until late into the next morning that the man said she could be with child. When she agreed that it was entirely possible, the man offered to marry her. She accepted, and they both agreed that they could not return to the village they had been born and raised in. The man’s reputation was ruined, as was hers, and if he returned, he would be prosecuted for a murder which he did not really commit.

 

So they crossed the border together and began their lives in New Mexico, and nine months after the incubus attack, a little boy was born, a boy they named Carlos.

 

“We did not know that you would be so very incubus. We thought ‘maybe,’ but we hoped that you would not have to bear such a burden. However, the reason I tell you this, Carlos, is because the longer you languish in your sickbed, the closer you will come to death. Incubo, even half-incubo, I suspect, require regular feedings for energy. I think that it will also help you to heal. We have been trying to treat you like a human, with chicken soup and cold medicine, but you are not fully human. Now get up and go find someone to feed on. You must be careful though—I think you know this instinctively, but with repeated feedings too close together, you could kill your partner. I was very weak for awhile after the attack. It’s better to continue on as you have. People may think you are promiscuous, but this is preferable to dead bodies appearing.”

 

So Carlos, at a mere seventeen years old, followed his mother’s advice and crawled out of his bed to go have sex. It was strange advice, but it worked. After that, he spent much of his free time learning about incubi and discovering more about himself in the process and while it aggravated him that his father was only his father in the most technical of senses, he couldn’t bring himself to view the man with anything but love. For better or worse, despite the lies and the secrets, those were his parents, incubus heritage be damned.

 

“Do you love Father?” he recalled asking out of the blue approximately two months after the illness.

 

His mother had smiled out the kitchen window where she was kneading dough on the counter, her eyes seeking and immediately finding her husband out in the garden. “Yes,” she responded, “Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. I think it was when I saw him with you.” Her hands pinched and pulled the dough into rough asymmetrical shapes. “You were starting to smile then and he was holding you, and you put your hands on his cheeks with the sweetest grin. You have the same smile, you know. Anyway, your father laughed and you started laughing and it was the nicest thing I had seen in a long time. My heart felt like it had grown wings, and I knew we would be fine.”

 

\---

 

_Part One_

 

It was warm in the nightclub, not only from the tightly packed throng of writhing, eager bodies and the smoke and lights, nor the gargantuan amount of electronic equipment. The moist heat drifted in from the club doors, forcing the air conditioning to fight an uphill battle to cool the building. Mazatlan itself pulsed with heat and hormones, driving Spring Breakers to be indiscreet and unruly.

 

It was a good night to be an incubus.

 

Carlos, or rather the man they called Cougar those days, slinked from one end of the bar to the other, filling drink orders and flirting, taking minute sips of energy from hot, horny co-eds through casual touches that had their hearts leaping into their throats and lit a flame between their toned thighs like a lover had just given them a tentative first lick over their slippery quims. He fed from their half-lidded eyes, laden with glitter and eyeliner, and their drunken thoughts, and wondered to himself if it would ever be enough; if it could ever be enough. To date, he had never quite managed to fill the gaping chasm in himself that cried out for more—more touches, more kisses, more love—and to be frank, he was afraid to try. He wanted his lovers to wake with memories of passion and pleasure, tired and sated from an evening with him; he wanted them to wake, not die in his hands.

 

Mazatlan was proving to be a good place for his insatiable appetite. It was a popular vacation destination, especially for college students, and with an ever-changing rotation of people, Cougar had a variety of choices for whom to while away an evening with. He enjoyed his job tending bar and laying on the beach in the sunshine. Liked the food (both kinds) and the people (even those he didn’t sleep with, like his neighbor Senora Miguela, an eccentric who was fond of making picture frames from collected materials and regularly stopped by with home-cooked dishes she had made too much of) and the aura of happiness that seemed to come from the land itself. Even though he was far from home, he felt at home.

 

So, more than in his element that night, Cougar attended to the needs of college students and began his process of selecting one who appeared to have an over-abundance of energy to zero in on for the night. First he examined the ones that obviously appreciated his appearance. He knew he looked good that night, even for him. His skin was golden from having spent yesterday on the beach, sitting in a chair on the pier, catching fish and drinking beer; his long, dark hair was pulled back from his face, secured in a low ponytail with a battered leather cowboy hat perched atop his head. Why the hat? He didn’t know. Maybe as some reminder of his roots in the southwest. His t-shirt was a little tighter than it ought to have been, showing off lithe, ropy muscles, and his jeans clung in all the right places, accented with the masculine pieces of jewelry he preferred. He looked swarthy and mysterious and very male, despite what features some might call androgynous.

 

“Hola,” he heard as he identified movement on his periphery. A young man had muscled his way to the bar, inserting himself in a six inch gap that widened as the people on either side moved to make room for him. “Dos tequilas, por favor.” He was good looking in the way that some white men were with defined cheekbones and a strong jaw, the fullness of his lips adding a touch of softness to an otherwise angular face, and his glasses distracted from his muscular frame. His shockingly blonde hair was cut short and arced in messy spikes. Cougar grabbed two shot glasses and poured quickly, placing two lime slices on a napkin as well, and just as he was setting them down a young woman appeared next to him.

 

“Jake!” she cried and threaded an arm through the young man’s. Cougar’s eyes flicked to her, taking in her short, burgundy hair and tan skin. Long limbs, decent rack, scandalously low-cut top; those were all things he catalogued in a quick, singular breath. “You got me a shot! Jesus, you’re a saint!”

 

“Nicki,” the blonde man, Jake, almost sighed, “That’s for Faye. She asked first, and she gave me money, you cheap-skate.” The girl with the burgundy hair rolled her eyes, and Cougar tried not to look like he was eavesdropping, except he totally was. One of the perks of being a bartender was listening to other people’s conversations, and the interaction between Jake and Nicki was proving humorous. “Aw, come on, Jakey,” the girl attempted to cajole him with dulcet tones and fluttering lashes, but Jake remained unswayed.

 

“Buy your own,” he told her decisively, and asked Cougar, “How much?”

 

“Six.”

 

“U.S.?” the kid asked, and Cougar nodded. The place he worked at in Mazatlan was in the heart of the tourist party scene. Most places around there accepted both USD and Mexican currency. It was just easier for the owners to bring in more business, rather than turning people away for not having enough money converted. So the menu behind the bar showed prices in both currencies.

 

He handed over a ten that looked like it had gone through the wash a few times and as Cougar was retrieving his change he saw another woman sidle up to the kid. Her hair was dark blonde and wavy, and she was significantly less tan than Nicki. She wore white and looked a bit more elegant than her friend, who appeared to be trying to convince her to buy her a shot. Faye?

 

Returning with the young man’s change, Cougar was forestalled from leaving by the blonde haired girl. “Can we get another tequila shot, please?” Her smile was lovingly exasperated as Nicki squealed and bounced in place.

 

“Si,” he nodded and provided the trio with a third shot, which the blonde woman paid for with money she retrieved from inside her white, scoop-necked shirt. Liking the look of her, he favored her with a slow, flirtatious smile, which the blonde girl returned with a sudden slight flush on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she added, her voice a little higher than before.

 

The three friends took their shots together and then disappeared, leaving a fair tip on the bar top. Work continued on relentlessly, but that was good. More customers meant more tips. He saw the blonde several more times. The girl would make it a point to sidle up to whichever end of the bar Cougar currently occupied. She would smile sweetly and waggle her fingers to catch his eye, leaning over the bar a bit in order to be heard as she placed her drink orders. On one of her return trips, she stopped him and said, “Hi, I’m Faye,” with her fingertips just barely touching his on her glass. “Cougar,” he responded, and gave her another smile like pulled taffy. She blushed lightly once again and murmured, “It’s nice to meet you, Cougar.”

 

“You too,” he told her as her friend Nicki walked up, slanted an unreadable look at him, and then turned to her friend, all bubbly smiles and laughter, pulling Faye back towards their party.

 

Later on in the night, while everyone was well on their way to being inebriated, and Cougar was getting antsy, Faye showed up at the bar again and asked him when he got off of work. “Four,” he replied, as he skillfully maneuvered her towards the less crowded part of the bar where he could flirt in earnest, his long, dark fingers dancing over the skin of her wrist, feeling her pulse thrum faster when he looked at her from under the brim of his cowboy hat.

 

“Wow, that’s early. You guys sure do party hard down here,” she laughed, the sound a little breathier than normal. “You want to do something after? My friends and I, we rented this beach house down here fairly close by.”

 

“Sure,” Cougar purred and refrained from letting his smugness creep onto his face. With gentle yet insistent hands, he rotated Faye’s wrist in his grasp and pressed his lips into her open palm, dark eyes locked on her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her free hand grip the bar, knuckles turning white. The tip of his tongue touched her skin, tasting salt, and sipping something more as well, something indescribable. It was like feeling the first faint rays of sunshine on your face in the morning, happy and sensual. “I’ll see you at four,” he said as he released her. Her breath came out shaky, and she nodded. “Yep,” she turned and meandered off, looking dazed, yet pleased.

 

The other blonde, the man named Jake, showed up at the bar around three-thirty. He had his short-sleeved, collared shirt hanging from his belt loops, leaving him in just a light gray tee shirt that had a pi sign that said ‘get real’ on it and a rational number responding ‘be rational’ and a pair of khaki shorts. Sweat darkened his hair at his temples and as he waited at the bar, he shoved his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Can I get a beer and um…” he flipped over his hand, which Cougar could see had something written on it in purple sparkle pen, “A saba colada and a cosmopolitan. Jesus, I didn’t know girls actually drank that crap. I thought it was like an urban legend or something.” Jake shook his head and looked up to discover Cougar laughing quietly, a genuine laugh, nothing contrived about it. Cougar shrugged. “Girls like alcohol that does not taste like alcohol. That way when they’re drunk, they can pretend to be surprised about it.”

 

Jake cackled and slapped his hand on the bar. “Gonna have to remember that one. Oh, and it’s so true, man.”

 

Cougar set the beer in front of Jake first, then went about mixing the cosmopolitan. The most challenging drink would be the saba colada, because it was blended not mixed. So that took a little while longer and by the time he returned, Jake had an empty beer bottle in front of him. Dark eyebrows shot up, and the blonde haired man grinned sheepishly. “I was bored,” he offered up as an excuse, and Cougar reached into the fridge and fetched him another bottle. The college student paid up, glanced over his shoulder as though looking for someone, and then cursed. “Dammit, I’ve only got two hands.”

 

The bartender was chuckling again as he watched Jake precariously grab and balance two large drinks and his beer, using his shoulders to muscle his way through the crowd. Half an hour later, Faye flounced up as last call went out and the lights came on full force with Nicki and Jake trailing behind her. “Hey!” she called, waving enthusiastically, “Are you ready to go?” The girl with the burgundy hair tottered in her high heels and Jake caught her up around the waist as he rolled his eyes. The expression made Cougar grin unexpectedly as he tossed down his dish towel.

 

“Yes,” he replied, offering a perfunctory farewell to his coworkers, who knew enough about Cougar and his romantic history to laugh and call out crude jokes in Spanish as he clocked out. For his part, the half-incubus ignored them, even though it sometimes bothered him. It wasn’t like Cougar did what he did out of some misguided need to be a playboy. He needed food, as simple as that. Hell, part of him wished he could find someone and settle down more and more as he grew older. Watching his sisters grow up and find love, marry and have children, had made him realize that, admit it to himself. Then he immediately shelved it as a pipe dream and kept on with his life the way it was. His mother had said it herself, he could kill with his love, and not all the wishing in the world would change that. Still, he didn’t appreciate his coworkers jeering at his bed-partners. That was just bad manners.

 

He came out of the back room behind Faye and her friends, and he slithered up behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back. She jumped with a sound like a squeak, turning. Upon seeing him, she laughed aloud. “You scared me!” she accused.

 

“Lo siento,” he grinned, unapologetic despite his words, “Shall we go?”

 

“Definitely,” Faye said and took his hand to lead the way. As the four of them walked—well, Nicki mostly stumbled and leaned on Jake—he was officially introduced.

 

“Nice to meet you both,” he nodded, walking backward briefly.

 

“You too,” Jake smiled in a charmingly boyish way, his face not showing the effort it must be taking to wrangle the hilariously drunk girl in his arms. “Yeeeaaaah,” Nicki drawled and made some sort of flailing movement, maybe to shake his head. Whatever it was intended to do, it dislodged her from Jake’s grip for a moment, and she wheeled forwards dangerously. Alarmed, Cougar stepped up and wrapped his arms around the girl as Jake’s arms closed on the redhead once more.

 

With their arms tangled together around the girl, both men looked up at each other over the girl’s head. There was a moment of silence as Cougar took in the feel of Jake’s skin on his and the strong, sudden pulse of lust that flared over him, like a hunger pang that twisted in his lower stomach. Then Jake cracked a grin and started laughing, and Cougar was laughing too. He could even hear Faye giggling over his shoulder as she said, “Jeez, Nicki, how drunk are you?” The redhead, who had her face pillowed in Cougar’s shirt, mumbled, “Pretty fucking wasted,” and gave her friend a thumbs-up.

 

Holding the girl upright, Cougar pushed himself away and went to wrap an arm around her from the other side of Jake. “Perhaps between you and I, we can get her to the house unscathed, eh?” A little half-smile graced the curve of his thin lips, and the blonde haired man smiled back. “Sounds good, dude. She’s an unruly beast, this one.” So with the two of them holding Nicki up and prodding her along, and Faye leading the way, they made it to the rented beach house as night was starting to fade into the early morning shades of sunrise.

 

The beach house was little more than a glimpse of white-washed wood and tile floors as Cougar and the other man maneuvered Nicki to her bedroom, where the girl became abruptly stubborn and incompliant. She had her hands braced on either side of the doorframe and kept repeating, “No, no, no. You can’t come in. I gotta…change into PJ’s and stuff, so you can’t come in.”

 

Finally, Faye came took Cougar’s place next to Nicki. “She doesn’t want somebody she doesn’t know in her room,” Faye explained apologetically, “Because she needs help changing. You understand, right?”

 

“Oh, _oh_ , si. Of course, I understand,” he replied and backed off, “I’ll just…have a seat.” The blonde haired girl grinned and jerked her chin towards the kitchen, “Help yourself if you want something to drink while you wait.”

 

Then the three of them shifted sideways through the doorway to the bedroom, and Jake just as soon reappeared, shutting the door behind him. “Faye is going to help awkwardly maneuver Nicki into some pajamas. She said I’m supposed to entertain you until she can come fuck your brains out.” Cougar laughed. “No, seriously,” Jake responded, “I’m under orders. So let’s grab some beers.” He strode into the galley kitchen area, pulling two glass bottles out of the fridge and handing one to Cougar.

 

Just then they heard the unmistakable sound of someone hurling. Jake winced, looking at the door the girls had disappeared behind and then to Cougar apologetically, and asked, “So, you play cards? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Faye’s going to stay in there for a bit to make sure Nicki doesn’t drown in her own puke.” Cougar snorted, nodded a yes, and they sat down at the table, dealing out a quick hand of rummy.

 

“Where are you guys from?” The Latino man asked as he surveyed his seven cards. He swapped the four of spades with the ace of clubs on the top of the discard pile, and laid down a neat run of three. He paused to pull on his beer while Jake contemplated his first move.

 

“I’m from New Hampshire,” Jake replied, “But we go to school at MIT.” Cougar looked up and gave Jake a doubtful look. “Nicki?” he asked, clearly having trouble picturing the loud, bouncy drunk girl at such a prestigious university. Jake laughed and nodded as he picked up a card from the pile, surveyed it, and just as quickly discarded it. “I know she acts like a dumbass, but I guess she’s some kind of savant when it comes to science. She’s a bio-chemical engineering major, whatever that means. Faye’s a math major, and I’m in computer science and engineering.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“Hm?”

 

Cougar went through the motions of the game, then resumed his thought. “MIT is in Massachusetts, yes?”

 

“Cambridge,” Jake agreed, and slammed almost a third of his beer at once.

 

“Cold there?”

 

“Hell yeah,” the other man replied.

 

“I don’t like the cold,” Cougar admitted as Jake dropped the queen of spades into the discard pile.

 

“No? Too bad. It’s pretty when it snows up there.”

 

“I prefer my Christmases dry as a bone,” Cougar replied with a smirk, “I’m from New Mexico.”

 

“No shit. What are you doing all the way down here?”

 

“My mother asks me that all the time.” Both men laughed, another round of cards were drawn, and Jake placed a four of a kind down and flicked another card down to rummy off of Carlos’ run. “I don’t know, truthfully. Why not Mazatlan?” he asked rhetorically, “It’s nice y interesante, and I guess mostly I just got tired of the States. I may move back someday to be closer to mi familia, but for now I am enjoying the sunshine and the food too much.”

 

“I can’t imagine,” Jake shot back, “It must be like being on vacation all the time, even if you have to work.”

 

“It is,” Cougar agreed and grinned laconically, scooping up the queen of spades and laying down a run of four, jack to ace.

 

“Shit,” his opponent cursed as he observed the move, “I’m fucked.”

 

At that, the incubus almost laughed outright, but he settled for just shaking his head and saying, “There is always a chance, mi amigo.” It wasn’t until they finished the game (Cougar stomped Jake with one-hundred and thirty points to Jake’s seventy-five) that they realized the sounds of furious vomiting had ceased some time ago, and yet Faye hadn’t emerged from the bedroom. “Huh,” Jake mused, “I’ll go check on her,” he said and downed the last of his third beer. The younger man rose from the table and stretched as he did so, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin between his t-shirt and shorts that Cougar took a moment to appreciate, and flip-flopped his way to the door.

 

He peeked in and then came back out, shrugging. “Sorry, man, they’re both passed out.” Sadly, the bartender had figured as much when the blonde haired Faye hadn’t returned, and he fluidly switched to Option B: Make Do With What You Have.

 

When he’d touched Jake earlier, he’d felt that zing of desire from the younger man, and it’s not like he was bad-looking or that his personality was unappealing. Cougar just preferred women as a default setting. Perhaps it was something to do with being raised in the ways of Mexican machismo that made it so, but still…desire was desire, and he had been known to go with men if nothing else was available. The gnawing hunger inside him demanded to be fed. Sure, he could push it off for another day if he wanted, sometimes a few if he’d fed very well, but it would begin to affect him gradually and Cougar wasn’t the type to self-punish, at least not in a way that could eventually kill him.

 

Thinking on it, it was good they’d had that time to themselves, time to grow a rapport with each other, because he was confident that some of Jake’s later commentary had been tentative forays into flirtatiousness that Cougar had been receptive to. It was good, because then it wouldn’t seem like his offer, his interest was coming out of nowhere.

 

So Cougar shrugged his shoulders and favored Jake with a long look as he drained the last of his beer. Nervous, perhaps sensing the change in him, the sudden sharpening of his focus, Jake shifted back and forth, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, I guess you’ll be going now…”

 

Licking his lips, a movement that Jake followed with his eyes, Cougar stood up and said, “Or we could keep each other company.”

 

“Uh…”

 

\---

 

_Part Two_

 

Oh. My. God.

 

Ohmygod.

 

Ohmigawd!

 

Jensen couldn’t believe he was actually thinking about it. Was he really going to poach the guy that Faye had tried to stake out for herself that night?  Wasn’t there something in the Bro Code that prohibited stuff like that? Except, okay, that was for bros. Not your ho-ish friends/roommates. Seriously, he wasn’t one to talk because god knew he couldn’t hold onto a girlfriend to save his life, but generally relationships don’t function when significant others habitually cheat on each other.

 

But…did the fact that Cougar would have just been another fling for Faye, who then would have gone back to her long-term boyfriend, did that make it okay for Jake to take Cougar to bed? How did the Bro…er, Ho Code apply to one-night stands?

 

Then Jake thought that if Faye were conscious to give her blessing, she probably would. Oh, she’d be green with envy, like Jake had been for half the night because god those jeans looked painted on that hot ass, but she would still give him the go-ahead. After all, there weren’t any official claims, no feelings to be hurt, just a sexy, sexy man who wanted to have hot, sweaty sex before he went home that morning. In light of that realization, Jake looked up at Cougar, who was standing quite close to him, leaning against the kitchen counter with a thoughtful look on his very attractive face. He was waiting patiently for an answer, and Jake almost had a panic attack.

 

He didn’t stop to think or to analyze why Cougar’s interest suddenly shifted from Faye to himself, instead chalking it up to just a base male urge to have an orgasm, and having one with a partner was always better than having one alone.

 

Finally, Jake just settled for a shrug. “Okay,” he replied, and to his relief, Cougar smiled, slow and sticky-sweet. It was a really good smile, and it made Jake lick his own lips in anticipation of what other kinds of things that mouth would be good at. “Good,” the man in the cowboy hat replied—and seriously, whatever the deal was with that hat, it was fucking hot and called to life every Brokeback Mountain fantasy he’d ever had—and took two steps closer to back Jake into the countertop. It was with Cougar’s arms braced on the counter on either side of his hips that he suddenly realized he was taller than the other man, that Cougar had to tilt his head up slightly to look him in the eyes, especially at that close of an angle. Not that it mattered so much, but it just seemed incongruous with the bartender’s personality, which while quiet still carried a great deal of large attributes: self-assuredness, seductiveness, other things that started with ‘s’ that he couldn’t quite remember anymore because Cougar was slipping his knee between Jake’s and they were sharing the same air an instant before lips descended on his own, short-circuiting all thoughts unrelated to the soft meeting of mouths.

 

The kiss was short and gentle, like a tentative testing of waters or a symbol, like the gun shot at the start of a race. ‘Okay, now we are going to have sex.’ Oh, fuck, he was going to have sex. With a man. Jake had messed around with a couple of different guys before, like Freshman year at MIT when he got completely obliterated at that one party and ended up in the bathroom with some hot asian dude sucking his dick, or last year when he and Maaran Daryapurkar (it suddenly occurred to Jensen that maybe he had a thing for exotic-looking guys) hooked up and got each other off, then passed out cold on his bed. What was with him and using alcohol to pave the way to Buttsecks Land? Seriously, something about that was messed up.

 

All of the sudden he felt a sharp pressure on his lower lip and a flicker of pain, and he pulled back to look at Cougar questioningly. The older man licked the abused spot in apology and purred in his ever-so-sexy accent, “Pay attention.”

 

Wide-eyed, Jake nodded his agreement and his fingers clutched Cougar’s hips, the material of his t-shirt soft under his calloused fingers, indicative of many washes. When had that happened?

 

With the hint of a smirk quirking his lips, Cougar returned his attention to Jake’s mouth and the taller man almost found himself melting in appreciation. That clever tongue licked his lips again and Jake parted his obligingly; the tip delved inside of him, flicked against his in a welcome tease that drove a moan out of him, and retreated before he could even think to respond. Lips moved against his in an open-mouthed kiss that was slightly damp, pressure and retreat, just like that goddamn tongue, and Jensen lost his patience, wrapping his hand in that ponytail and tugging back Cougar’s head so he could deepen the kiss.

 

The Latino groaned into his mouth as Jake invaded, tongues sliding against each other urgently, taking breaths through their noses rather than break that hot, wet kiss too soon. A hand pressed against his lower back and it occurred to Jake that he was rolling his hips against the other man needfully, and Cougar was totally encouraging it and if he wasn’t careful this was all going to be over way faster than he would like it to be. Jake was totally prepared to sacrifice half his day to having sex with Cougar. Coming in his shorts was not part of that plan. With great reluctance, Jake eased the intensity of their kiss down and gave himself a moment to get everything back under control again. He didn’t know if Cougar was just that much of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy or if he somehow sensed that Jake needed a minute to compose himself, but the other man eased out of the liplock gracefully as well, not chasing his mouth or demanding more.

 

“Mm, you taste good,” Cougar stated, “Like Tecate and candy.” Jake would have laughed except Cougar nibbled his way up Jake’s neck and sucked on his earlobe, and his knees felt weak all of the sudden. He moved to steady himself by resting a hand on the counter behind him. “What’s your favorite candy?” Cougar whispered in the ear whose nerves were abruptly connected directly to his groin. Swallowing convulsively, Jake replied, “Saucers, but I was eating Twizzlers.”

 

“Strawberry?” Cougar breathed as he traced the shell of Jake’s ear with his tongue, up and then back down where he licked his earlobe once more, much to the blonde’s delight, and nipped it as he pulled away, drawing a small sound from Jake. “You like that, don’t you?” the bartender’s voice dropped low and the sound of it elicited a shiver from him. “Hm?” Curious hands traced his muscles underneath his nerdy t-shirt, then just a fingertip tracing back and forth on his waist, following the line of his waistband.

 

Holy fuck.

 

Jake had never actually been seduced before, and he found that he was quite unprepared for how to respond to such a role reversal, more used to being the pursuer than the pursued.

 

“Yes,” he replied throatily when Cougar kissed his Adam’s apple, forcing his head to tip back.

 

“To which question?” Cougar spoke against his throat, and the feeling was so acute, the skin stretched thin with his head leaned back the way it was, Jake could feel the vibration of the other man’s speech in his own larynx. The brim of Cougar’s hat brushed against his chin, and Jensen was just beginning to think that was going to be annoying when Cougar took the hat off of his own volition and set it down on the counter beside them. Firm lips pressed into his neck, trailing kisses back and forth, and Jake replied, “Both.” Okay, so he wasn’t exactly as his most articulate just then, but who would be?

 

Jake felt the smile against his neck an instant before his opposite earlobe was teased, a wet, pointed tongue drawing small circles over the cartilage, then sucked into a hot mouth. Upon its release, Cougar blew cool air on that small, easily overlooked body part and Jake broke out in goosebumps. “Holy _shit_ , you’re good,” he almost sighed out, and Cougar laughed. “Gracias,” he replied, nipping Jake’s chin and coming back to his lips.

 

“De-fucking-nada,” Jensen shot back, and Cougar snorted while he chuckled. After that, Jake found himself dragged down into another one of those soul-stealing, mind-numbing kisses. That time Cougar took control and used his lips and tongue to discover how many different sounds he could elicit from Jake before fresh air became an imperative. Jake’s hand had drifted away from Cougar’s hair, even though he loved the feeling of those thick, satiny strands sliding through his fingers, and come to curl around the back of the other man’s neck, his thumb massaging over the spot where his skull concaved into his spine. Cougar let out a low groan at the motion and let himself rest a little more fully against his partner. They pulled back from one another at the same moment, panting a little, Cougar rotating his neck in Jake’s hand. “That feels good,” he complimented absently.

 

“Keep your tension there, hey?” Jake brought his other hand up and dug his fingers gently into the muscle on either side of Cougar’s neck. “Unh,” Cougar grunted, making a slight face as he felt something give in his neck. “Mine’s in my back,” the blonde continued quietly as he worked at a small, stubborn knot, rubbing in hard, counterclockwise circles. It loosened with a sigh from the dark-haired man, and Cougar rubbed his cheek against Jake’s chest, almost like he was scent-marking him, in gratitude. “Better?” Jake asked. Cougar settled for nodding, then lifted his head so that he could kiss Jake again, hands diving underneath his shirt as he did so, mapping out the planes of his abdomen.

 

“Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom?” He suggested when he broke the kiss, and Jake blinked at him, momentarily confused. Then his eyes cleared, refocusing on the kitchen.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Jake found himself stuttering, “I, uh, I forgot where we were.” His admission was sheepish, but it just made Cougar kiss him again. “The best compliment you could give me,” the older man replied, then stepped back so that Jake could lead the way to his room, which was on the opposite side of the living room from the girls’, swiping his hat off the counter as they went.

 

However, the sight of the bed made Jake pause as reality rushed back into his head. They were back at his starting quandary: he’d never actually had sex with another man. This was foreign territory, unexplored waters; in short, Jake was completely out of his depth. He turned to Cougar to tell him as much, but froze with his mouth open when the bartender tossed his hat down on the dresser and stepped up to Jake, his face friendly and warm. “Relax,” he offered, “No pressure. We go as far as you like.”

 

“How…?”

 

“I just know,” Cougar replied, “I can see your uncertainty. You have a terrible poker face, Jake.” His grin was crooked and his words made something unknot in Jake’s chest, some secret worry he’d harbored laid to rest. Then he groaned as Cougar started tracing his muscles under his shirt again, lifting it up as he went, and Jake threw the t-shirt across the room viciously, not focused on where it had ended up because Cougar had started kissing his collarbones and chest, flicking a flat, hardened nipple experimentally. That didn’t really do anything for Jake—the nipple itself wasn’t sensitive, but the area around it was, which Cougar discovered on accident when his fingertips were learning all the newly exposed skin. The feeling of those dark, slender fingers running over the skin there made Jake hum low in his throat, which he was sure Cougar catalogued for future reference, if his quick grin was any indication.

 

A lightbulb went on in Jake’s head as he watched Cougar lick down his sternum and spear his tongue into his bellybutton, making Jake jump a little at the sensation this elicited inside of him, a ticklish feeling of butterflies fluttering within. He was being rather selfish, letting Cougar take the lead in all of this. Hell, the older man was undoing Jake’s belt buckle, popping the button on his shorts. His dick was so hard that it strained against the zipper and when the bartender pulled down the tab, Jensen let out a groan of appreciation, of relief. Cougar nosed his length through his boxers, and Jake moaned, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. When had he taken off his flip-flops? He couldn’t remember. The tip of his cock was peeking out over the low waistband of his boxers, flushed with blood, and Jake watched, fascinated, as Cougar leaned over him and kissed the tip, flicking his tongue against the slit and collecting the pre-cum that had accumulated there. Long lashes fluttered as blue eyes grew hazy, and Jake licked his lips, wanting to taste but held as he was by the temptation of that sinful mouth so near his aching penis.

 

Then his boxers joined his shorts on the floor. Freed, his dick sprang up and nearly hit Cougar in the face, which set them both to laughing helplessly. The younger man’s died first, cut off in a strangled sound as the Latino man knelt in front of him and cupped his balls, gently kneading them in his hand. “Fuck,” Jake gasped, just in time to have the mushroomed head of his member disappear into Cougar’s mouth. The other man sucked slowly, languidly bobbing his head up and down. It was different from the asian kid. Cougar didn’t try to take his whole length in or seem to hurry through the process; he slowly tortured Jake until the younger man cried out and pulled away, panting, murmuring, “Enough.”

 

His hands were tangled in Cougar’s hair, disrupting the neatness of his ponytail, and Jake thought he looked really hot like that. He kind of wanted to pull the tie out altogether, but wasn’t sure if that would be taking too many liberties. Instead he settled for pulling Cougar upright and tugging his shirt off. Raising an eyebrow, Cougar eyed Jake in a look that challenged him wordlessly, asked him if he was man enough (gay enough?) to give as good as he got. Jake, true to character, couldn’t back down from such a blatant dare, and he kept up steady eye contact as he explored another man’s bare chest tactilely for the first time. Then his eyes drifted down and he bit his lip, watching his pale hands trace sun-darkened skin, feeling sensitive muscles twitch and relax under him. Cougar grinned and flinched as his hands ghosted down his sides, letting out a soft chuckle. Jake made a note that Cougar was ticklish there and moved on, tracing the sparse line of hair that led down to the top of his jeans with one knuckle.

 

The Latin man made a soft sound of pleasure, and Jake stepped forwards and kissed him, wanting to swallow that sound down inside of him where he would always have it with him. Pulling and clinging, lips slick with saliva, Jake cupped Cougar’s jaw in his hand, his other hand popping the button on those tight, dark jeans. Hands circled around his body, ran firmly over his back, kneading into tight tissue enough to make Jake grunt, and then cupped his bare ass. Jake eased the zipper down and gingerly pulled off the other man’s underwear as well. This was something he remembered doing before. A finger was sliding between his butt cheeks, and Jake tensed involuntarily but was distracted from his anxiety by Cougar’s other hand sliding around to wrap around his dick. It still had traces of saliva on it, and his hand glided up and down easily, experimenting with different grips and speeds until he found one that had Jake moaning with every movement. He barely even noticed the finger tracing around his asshole, except that the sensation it produced was abnormal and intriguing.

 

It really was lucky for Cougar that Jake was such a curious guy. The blonde wrapped his hand around the other man’s engorged penis and Cougar hummed into his mouth as Jake began to tug on it, twisting his hand up at the top and spreading the bead of pre-cum his thumb found at the slit for lubrication. The hand on his dick disappeared momentarily and closed over his own, their fingers tangling together around Cougar’s cock. Breaking the kiss, Cougar told him, “like this,” in a voice that was rough with wanting. He tightened Jake’s hand around him a little more, forcing the strokes slower and firmer. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” Cougar groaned between clenched teeth, resting his forehead on Jake’s shoulder, looking down their bodies at their hands moving in tandem, and Jake couldn’t help but to watch also, his gaze inexorably drawn to the sight as well. The hand on his butt cheek tightened, that finger pressing more insistently up against his untried entrance, circling slowly and making Jake shudder.

 

“Jake,” Cougar tipped his head up, flicking the blonde haired man’s earlobe once more and Jake surprised himself by releasing a noise that could only be described as a mewl, “I want to fuck you, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I understand. I just…” Cougar untangled his fingers from Jake’s, cupped the other man’s balls in his hand, rolling them softly, tracing the slight separation between testes, and then sliding behind to pinch and play with his perineum.

 

“Oh, god,” Jake groaned as those fingers rubbed him in just the right spot and he trembled with intense arousal.

 

“I want to make the most of this night,” he heard Cougar say, “Al pie de esta noche con un recuerdo para mantenerme caliente, algo que siempre atesoraré.”

 

“Dude,” Jake replied, “As long as you keep whispering Spanish nothings in my ear, you can have whatever you want.” Laughter followed his hurried declaration and Cougar nipped his lower lip. “You should not offer such open-ended invitations, Jake. Someone may take you up on them,” Cougar teased him. Jake snorted wryly and was about to phrase a retort when that devious little finger pushed inside him up to the first knuckle. Instead what was sure to be a witty come-back turned into a pathetic mewl and his eyelids fluttering as his body struggled to process this new feeling. Was it good? Was it bad? Should we fight it? Push it out?

 

“First time?” Cougar asked carefully.

 

Jake nodded and heard himself swallow. “Yeah,” he said, his hand momentarily stilled on the other’s member.

 

The dark haired man nodded and pulled the little length of his finger out. “Do you have something for lube?” he asked, and Jake took a long pause to think about it.

 

“Hold that thought,” he grinned and went rummaging through his duffel bag, feeling Cougar’s eyes on him the whole time. Finally, Jake held up a little plastic baggie triumphantly, with a pink vibrator and a bottle of lube. Cougar’s eyebrows lifted. Jake shook his head. “Don’t ask, man. It’s a long story that involves my roommates and days of whining, bargaining, cajoling, et cetera. The long and short of it is that it’s not mine, but in times of dire need…well, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, even one that shares space with a pink vibrating fairy wand from hell.” So Jake peeled apart the plastic bag and grabbed the lube, careful not to touch said fairy wand lest he be cursed with the sad sex life of its owner, and tossed the bottle at Cougar. “Do your thing, man,” he stated with a grin, making the dark-skinned man laugh again.

 

“I need your ass to ‘do my thing,’” Cougar replied, climbing onto the bed and patting the spot next to him.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake laughed and nervously ruffled his hair as he padded over, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His fingers knotted together and he cracked his knuckles with sudden anxiety. “I swear, if you say ‘assume the position,’” he trailed off there because Cougar was looking at him with his dark, limpid eyes, understanding and arousal clear to see there. The other man shifted, leaned forwards to catch Jake’s mouth in a quick kiss. “I won’t hurt you. Not intentionally,” he promised, and Jake knew that was as good as he was getting. He’d heard things, enough to know that sex this way could be uncomfortable for some, especially for a—he cringed mentally—virgin, but he was still willing to try it. He had a good feeling about Cougar, like the tail of a disappearing cat around a corner, and he was willing to follow it.

 

Swallowing his nerves, Jake found the temerity to kiss Cougar back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He wasn’t going to back out of this, not now that he’d decided to do it. They spent a long time just kissing and Jake realized that Cougar was trying to get him to relax again, so he breathed deeply and let himself get lost in it, refusing to think about anything except what was happening right that second. Moist, warm mouths battling it out, soothing hands sliding over his body, exploring his skin, making him lose his mind to a slavering beast called lust. He arched up into Cougar’s hands and realized that they were both lying on the bed now, side by side.

 

For some reason, Cougar seemed to be rather skilled at making him get so caught up in his arousal that he forgot his surroundings, forgot what he was doing entirely. The world could be ending, the zombie-apocalypse could be on their doorstep, and all Jake would be able to think about was the taste of Cougar’s mouth and the feel of his hands; those hands that were easing his legs apart and sliding between them, touching his dick with gentle, teasing strokes and feather-light caresses. Jake was murmuring something, upon further reflection he thought it was ‘please,’ and shifting into that touch, begging for more.

 

A shifting of weight occurred, and Jake opened his eyes to find Cougar lowering himself between Jake’s spread legs, urging him to cant his hips up more. Jake obliged only to cry out as Cougar used his tongue to lave his tightened sac. Slick fingers teased his asshole as the older man sucked one testicle into his mouth, sucking gently so that the blonde haired man groaned and found himself running his fingers through long, dark hair, the rubber band flicked off somewhere in the room. A finger slipped inside him and Jake hesitated, his body and mind going through the same battle of wills as before. Cougar didn’t push, just released one cojone in favor of the other. He did something with his tongue that made Jake forget about the finger in his butt momentarily, and the next thing he knew that digit had slid all the way in, crooked up and dragged across a spot so sensitive that his grip tightened on Cougar’s hair wildly.

 

“Oh, wow,” he croaked when the fantastic sensation faded away to an echo of its original pleasure, “Should have done this a long time ago.” Cougar was chuckling while he still carefully held Jake’s testicle in his mouth, and Jensen squirmed delightedly, inadvertently moving the finger inside him and—

 

His mind went blank for a minute and by the time he recovered, Cougar was moving inside of him with two fingers instead of one, using his fingers to fuck him and stretch him, pushing against the walls of his rectum insistently. It was wholly absorbing and it only got better when a mouth descended on his painfully aroused flesh, sliding down, down, down until Jake thought for sure that Cougar would choke, except he didn’t, he just made this humming noise in the back of his throat like having Jake’s dick stuffed in his mouth was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Jake moaned loudly, uncaring if the sound traveled or if he woke up his roommates, back arching, awash in interesting sensations that vied for his attention. The dark haired man worked his way back up the length of Jake’s proud erection to the weeping tip. He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just underneath the head and sucked lightly, smirking when Jake gasped and tugged on his hair again.

 

Fingers rubbed his prostate again and Jake tossed his head back and forth blindly, his neck cording with tension. Then they backed out and the whole process began again with another finger. By the time Cougar had worked his way up to four, Jake was insensible, mouth open with harsh pants, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Please, please,” he begged, “Oh god, please…”

 

“Please, what?” Cougar purred, stretching up to nip and nibble at Jake’s ear in the way that made him crazy.

 

“ _Oh_.” It sounded like the sound had been dragged from his chest, like all the lust and need and wonder in the world had been condensed into that single syllable, and Cougar bit at his neck during the sudden surge, doubtlessly leaving a mark. “Fuck me,” Jake panted, squirming against the fingers still thrusting in and out of him at a leisurely pace, “Put your dick in me and fuck me. I want to feel what it’s like to come with you inside of me.”

 

“Okay,” Cougar agreed and pulled his fingers out. While Jake shuddered at the sudden loss, the other man leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled his wallet from his pants pocket. Rifling through the contents, Cougar emerged with a condom that he ripped open with his teeth and rolled onto his straining member. Then he caught Jake’s leg, curving under the knee and tickling the sensitive skin there, pulling him open wide and pressing up, a little surprised when Jake acquiesced easily to the flexible position, using his other hand to line himself up. He didn’t warn Jake or wait because he knew all too well how that could make a man nervous, undo all of the hard preparation in a single moment of nerves, just started to push inside.

 

“Oh crap,” Jake hissed, blue eyes squinted shut tightly. (Where had his glasses gone? Damn Cougar and his magical mind-melting ways.) “Sorry,” Cougar gritted his teeth, “You want to stop?”

 

“No, keep going,” he said and shook his head against the pillow. Then the resistance passed, and Cougar slid the rest of the way in easily, coming to a halt when his balls bounced against Jensen’s ass, and god, that was an unusual (arousing) feeling. Damn his curiosity. When Cougar pulled out, Jake found himself biting his lip at the feeling of loss, and grunting in satisfaction as he slid home again. Blue eyes opened again, watching in rapt fascination as his virgin asshole was plundered by another man, feasting on the sight of flexing muscles and the look of concentration on Cougar’s face. Jake liked the way his dark hair fanned out around him, tendrils spilling over his shoulders and onto his chest, twitching with every thrust he made. It was quite…beautiful, really.

 

Then Cougar pulled back, adjusted his angle, and when he slid in again, he touched something inside that stole breath and thought and reason. It defied logic, that intense pleasure, that it would be so much better now than it had been. Every move struck his prostate until Jake was arching, his hips moving, chasing that great wave of ecstasy that he’d allowed to elude him for so long. It was wonderful and intense, too good to last, and when Cougar wrapped his hand around Jake’s cock, he knew he was done for. Once, twice, and his body was seizing up, heels digging into the mattress, come splashing his belly.

 

Cougar groaned and brought his hand to his mouth, licking Jake’s semen from his hand as he fingers tightened on the younger man’s hips and he shook, riding out his own climax.

 

They collapsed side by side, panting and trembling with aftershocks, sweat dampening their skin from the duration of their session. Efficiently, Cougar disposed of the condom and felt around for the box of tissues, gently wiping Jake between his stretched and sore thighs. “Jesus,” Jake finally uttered when he could think to say anything.

 

The other man looked at him and laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Actually, it’s Carlos,” he replied. Then they were both laughing, until Jake yawned tiredly and said to Cougar—er, Carlos—“You can stay if you want. Catch some sleep.”

 

“Thank you,” Carlos said.

 

“You should know I’m a cuddler,” Jake thought to tell him as he was drifting off.

 

“You should know I’m okay with that,” Carlos replied with a yawn of his own, and just to prove it, he tugged Jake over so that the blond haired man was on his side with an arm thrown over Cougar’s middle. Jake tangled his leg with the other man’s as well and nodded off, suddenly more tired than he could say. As he was falling asleep, he heard Cougar sigh and run his fingers through Jake’s short hair, and he had the sudden thought that for a man who’d left behind his family and friends in America on what he supposed was a whim, Cougar had some sort of sorrow lurking inside him because _that_ —that _sigh_ was a sound of sadness and longing and disappointments. At least that’s what Jake thought before he fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.

 

\---

 

_TBC…_


	2. Book One: Parts Three to Five

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: M

Warnings: idk…yet

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Part Three_

 

Morning brought with it the awareness that Cougar was not in his own bed. That was not so unusual in and of itself. He frequently went to his lovers’ homes rather than having them at his place. There was just something undeniably intimate about having someone in his home, sleeping with them in his bed. It ignited feelings in him that he would rather avoid, and so instead he went to their places, their hotels and little rented shacks because it was easier for him to leave than to watch them go in an endless parade of warm bodies and one-night stands.

 

He cracked open his eyes and squinted at the bright light pouring in through the window, trying to will it away through sheer concentration. When that didn’t work, his breath huffed out and he rolled over, burying his face in the pillow he snagged from the opposite side of the bed. Just another moment, then he’d get up and search out his clothes.

 

The bedroom door cracked open and someone walked into the room. Cougar peeked out from underneath the long strands of hair shading his face, long enough to glimpse a well-formed, masculine backside, and then he settled down again with a quiet exhalation. “There’s coffee if you want it,” Jake said as he was pulling on clean clothes, judging by the shuffle and slide of fabric, “Faye’s making breakfast. Eggs and sausage. We have enough, if you’re hungry.” The young man’s voice was deliberately casual, breezy even, and Cougar cursed his incubus heritage once more. Then Jake left the room and Cougar was left alone to self-flagellate with the knowledge that he had taken something irreplaceable from the happy-go-lucky man.

 

Cougar had deflowered his fair share of virgins in his lifetime, but that had mostly been when he was younger. As he’d gotten older, he’d gained perspective on the act of sex, swayed to the nowadays-uncommon belief that one’s first time should be special. After all, everything after that for Cougar had just been about fulfilling a need, like eating food, drinking water, or getting the proper amount of sleep. He still remembered the look on Daniella’s face as he’d broken her maidenhead, how she’d cried and he’d panicked, asking her what he could do to make it better, if she wanted him to stop. After, she had whispered, ‘thanks, Carlos; not a lot of guys would have offered or even cared to stop. I’m glad you were my first.’

 

Shaking off the ghost-fingers of memory threatening to pull him down into a funk that he knew from experience would take days to shake off, Carlos rolled out of bed and picked his clothes up off of the floor. He couldn’t find his hair tie, even when he rooted around in the covers for it and took a careful perusal of the floor. He even checked the other bed with its perfectly made blankets in case it had flung over there. Finally, he gave up on the thought of it. Perhaps he could ask one of the girls if they had a rubber band he could have on his way out. Plunking his hat back on his head, Carlos left the bedroom and found his olfactory sense assaulted with the smell of fresh coffee and food. His stomach clenched as he was reminded that he hadn’t eaten dinner last night.

 

Feminine humming drifted out of the kitchen and Cougar was drawn in, acutely reminded of his mother doing the same thing as she cooked or baked at home. Faye was wearing denim shorts and a loose tank top, and he could see the colorful ties to a swimsuit top wrapped around her neck where her hair was upswept. She was still attractive to Cougar, even after the night he’d spent with Jake, but then that was his biology, his natural inclination to seek out as many lovers as he could. However, without the driving need for energy, Carlos could simply sit back and acknowledge that she was pretty without feeling the urge to do something about it.

 

The girl turned away from the stove briefly and caught Cougar’s eye with her pretty blue eyes (they weren’t quite as blue as Jake’s, more cobalt than aquamarine) and she smiled while she grabbed a salt shaker and turned to sprinkle some on the eggs she was scrambling. “Morning, Cougar,” she said, “I was going to apologize for falling asleep on you last night, but from the look of things, that’s entirely unnecessary.” Her voice was light, teasing, friendly. She looked up with raised eyebrows. “Did you have fun?” she asked with false innocence and Cougar found himself grinning at her, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“I think we both had a good time,” he favored her with saying, and Faye gave a delighted little laugh as she parceled out the eggs onto plates and scooped out the sausage as well. “We’ll have to do without toast,” she murmured almost to herself, “I had a hell of a time finding the eggs and sausage as it was.”

 

Cougar poured himself a cup of coffee and responded, “You have to hunt down the little local places. It takes patience, but it’s worth it instead of wasting your money at the Wal-Mart.”

 

“That’s what I heard,” her head bobbed up and down, and she smiled sweetly at something over Cougar’s shoulder. Just then Nicki walked in still wearing her pajamas and looked a little worse for wear. “Hey, rock star, how you feeling?”

 

“Hn,” Nicki grunted and poured the last of the coffee into the last clean mug.

 

“Do you even remember freaking out about letting Cougar into the bedroom?” Faye chortled, “Oh, man, that was so funny.”

 

“I was freaking out?” Nicki replied and flicked her lovely doe eyes to the dark-haired man standing next to her for confirmation.

 

“I would not say ‘freaking out,’” he hedged with a teasing smile on his face that he hid in his mug.

 

“You were freaking,” Faye stated.

 

Nicki just shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you never know. He could have been a homicidal maniac or an underwear thief. No offense,” the burgundy haired girl gave him an apologetic look, then turned a harder stare onto her blonde haired roommate, “You never know when you pick up strangers.” Faye rolled her eyes.

 

“Message received loud and clear, _Mom_ ,” the other girl drawled and scooped up a plate in either hand, flouncing out onto the balcony. Nicki sighed and scooped up one of the plates that had obviously been left for the two of them. “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, clearly directing the comment at her absent friend. Then she seemed to shake herself, calling up the dregs of the bubbly girl Cougar had met the night before with a sheepish smile. “Sorry I insinuated that you might be an underwear thief,” Nicki said, but Cougar just shook his head.

 

“Don’t be,” he told her as he swiped up the plate and silverware that had been left for him, “its good advice. You should be cautious of who you take home. You never know.” At that, Nicki’s smile brightened into something more genuine and the two of them seemed to reach an understanding.

 

“Come on,” the red-haired girl said and led the way across the living room floor, “I guess we’re eating out on the patio.”

 

The patio was warm with the sunshine beating down on it, as it was just after noon, and Jake and Faye were huddled under an umbrella-shaded picnic table, talking amongst themselves quietly. They greeted Nicki when she sat down, and Jake shot Cougar a wide, bright smile that had him smiling back without conscious volition. “That was some night,” Faye stated brightly, her eyes darting back and forth between Cougar and Jake, clearly trying to analyze something. Jake nodded and agreed with laughter in his voice, saying, “Sure was. My favorite part was carrying Nicki all the way home.”

 

“Hey!” Nicki cried with false affront, “I totally remember moving my feet, so there’s no way you _carried_ me. Don’t be such a drama llama, _Jakey_.” The blonde haired man winced at the nickname and whined, “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. It sounds like somebody’s pet.”

 

The redhead stuck her tongue out and responded with, “Then don’t call me Nicki. My name’s Nicole.”

 

“But Nicki is way cuter,” Faye cut in, “Like you. All bouncy and happy, like a little bunny.”

 

“Or a Chihuahua,” Jake chimed in with, completely ignoring the dark look Nicki shot at him, tucking into his breakfast with gusto. Cougar bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the exchange and when the urge subsided he preoccupied himself with eating, letting the warm conversation flow over him, strangely reminded of the mealtime banter at his parents’ house. He liked to pick at his younger sisters in exactly the same way. The memory brought with it a pang of homesickness and the thought that he should hurry up, leave quicker. It was one thing to have a one-night stand, but another entirely to abuse their hospitality this way when he had no intention of ever repaying the favor, of ever seeing them again.

 

When he finished eating and looked up from his plate, Cougar noticed Jake’s eyes on him. In his seriousness, they took on a different shade of blue, not so much aquamarine as they were cornflower, or maybe it was because his red t-shirt (which proudly proclaimed ‘pyros of the world ignite!’ with a graphic of a flaming lighter) was washing out the color. His gaze made Cougar uncomfortable and he tilted his head down a little more, shading his face with the brim of his hat. The bartender was staring at a trellis covered with some climbing plant and cheerful pink flowers, working his way up to politely excusing himself when Jake spoke to him.

 

“So, Cougar, I bet you probably need to get going, hey?” Again, there was that careful thread of neutrality in the other man’s voice, and it made Cougar study him from under the safety of his hat.

 

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Faye said, “We could use the help of somebody who knows this city to find all the cool places you never hear about in the guidebooks.” She was smiling, but her eyes were carefully studying the situation like she was solving a complicated equation.

 

He appeared to have won Nicki over in the kitchen, because the redheaded girl laughed lightly and said to Faye, “I’m sure we can find someone else. The locals are supposed to be really nice here.”

 

“But Nicki,” the blonde girl volleyed back, a hint of something unnamable entering her tone, “We’ve got one right here. Why would you throw a perfectly decent fish back?”

 

Nicki shrugged, tapped Cougar’s shoulder platonically, and spat out with deceptive lightness, “I don’t know if you noticed this, but he’s not a fish. I’m sure Cougar has stuff he needs to get done today.” Her voice was a sardonic drawl as she added, “And you throw fish back if you’re catch and release fishing, or if you’re fishing for a certain type of fish.”

 

“Well excuse the shit out of me for not knowing proper fishing etiquette,” Faye snapped, and stood up, leaving the patio in a snit.

 

Jake rolled his eyes and Nicki looked smug as she cut her last sausage link into bite-sized pieces. The blonde haired man slanted a look at the remaining woman at the table and said, “Do you have to do that?”

 

Nicki glanced up, all sugary smile and sparkly eyes, saying, “What?”

 

Shaking his head, Jake clearly decided that he was not inserting himself into the middle of whatever undercurrents his two female roommates were stirring up, and looked at Cougar with a friendly but exasperated half-smile. “You ready?”

 

Nodding, he stood up and followed Jake into the house where they deposited their dishes in the kitchen sink. “Ah, before I go,” Cougar began, “Do you mind if I ask for a favor?” Jake raised his eyebrow, but nodded. “My hair is…loose. May I have a hair-tie?” At that, Jake chuckled.

 

“Sure, man, follow me.” Jake barged into the bedroom that his roommates were sharing, eyeing the items on their twin dressers carefully. While he was digging around, Cougar asked idly, “Where did Faye go?” Just for something to say while he waited. It was the first thing that popped into his head, seeing how they were in her room, rooting through her things.

 

“Probably for a walk,” Jake replied absently, “She does that when she’s pissed.” Something seemed to occur to Jake and he looked up apologetically while he unzipped a plastic bag. “Sorry you had to see that. I can only imagine how awkward that was for you.”

 

Cougar shrugged and accepted the thin black ponytail holder that Jake held out to him. With his hat still perched on his head, Cougar reached behind himself and started securing his head in a low tail, looping his hair through the holder, twisting and pulling in a way that was automatic to him. “Why is Nicki so mad at Faye today?” he responded idly.

 

Jake sighed. “Nicki’s very…persnickety about certain things. She respects Faye’s boyfriend and doesn’t like it when they step out on each other, especially because Faye seems to do it far more often than her boyfriend does. At least that’s what I think it is. I’ve never asked them because I don’t want to get dragged into their girly melodrama. But having been friends with Nicki for a few years now, I can safely say that she takes her love life very seriously. Like I said last night, I know she acts really ditzy, but Nicki’s…surprising.”

 

As Cougar finished tying his hair, he said to Jake, “Well, better you than me. I have four sisters and I have never seen anything quite like that before. Unless it is possible that Nicki harbors feelings for Faye’s boyfriend, hence her disapproval? I have seen my sisters fight over boys before.”

 

Waving his hands in front of him emphatically, Jake nearly shouted, “I don’t want to know. Seriously. The only reason I moved in with girls is because they’re neater than guys are and I never have to wonder how that urine got on the wall.” He looked so genuinely distressed that Cougar had to laugh, just a little chuckle to ease the growing mirth inside him.

 

“So, I should go,” Cougar stated, and Jake sobered immediately, dropping his hands and straightening, replying, “Yeah, let me walk you out.” They left the girls’ bedroom and passed Nicki in the kitchen on their way out. She was washing dishes mechanically wearing a little frown on her face. Cougar was fairly certain that if she’d noticed them sneaking past, she would have turned on that bright, happy persona again, but as it was the redhead swished her hips to the squeaking of the sponge on the plates, frowning to herself at whatever she was thinking. The door closed quietly behind the two men, and they stood on the front stoop, staring at each other.

 

“Ah, look,” Jake said after an awkward moment of silence, sliding his hands into his pants pockets, “I don’t normally…that is to say…”

 

Cougar smiled, shifted and offered his hand. “I understand, so let me take the pressure off for you. It’s not you, it’s me. It was fun while it lasted.” Jake shook his hand, chuckling uneasily. “I hope you’ll remember me fondly, Jake.”

 

He made the mistake of glancing up, making eye contact with the young man, and felt a sudden wave of warm want slide into him from where their hands were linked. It took his breath for a moment, the strength of Jake’s desire, and when Cougar reminded himself to let out his oxygen, it came out shaky. Jake, of course, had no idea what Cougar had just felt and behaved as normally as possible, saying, “It was great to meet you, Carlos. I really…had a nice time last night, even if I’m a little sore in places I hadn’t known I could be sore in.” If it weren’t for the minute darkening of his eye color, Cougar would have believed him to be completely unaffected.

 

They released hands, Carlos smiling mostly for Jake’s benefit as he turned and walked away, waving casually over his shoulder as he let himself out through the gate in the white, wooden fence, and pointed his feet in the direction of his small apartment where a hot shower awaited him and where he could promptly begin to forget all about Jake and his roommates, and the things they made him think about.

 

\---

 

_Part Four_

 

The bedroom door shut with a little more force than necessary, startling Nicole out of her book and making her roll over on her bed to warily stare at her roommate. Faye was blonde haired and curvy with innocent blue eyes. People liked her because she was sweet and funny and a little geeky, but underneath all of that WASP-like exterior laid a highly emotional girl prone to whimsical actions. At the moment, Nicole could plainly see that she was still in the grip of her latest bout of pissiness, and something in her stance—hands braced on hips, feet shoulder width apart—warned the redhead to be careful with what she said.

 

While Nicole sometimes perversely enjoyed needling Faye, she didn’t want to spend the rest of her vacation dealing with an angry friend. She took a deep breath in and out, releasing it slowly as she waited for Faye to speak.

 

“What the hell, Nicki?” Faye hissed, obviously keeping her tone down so that Jake couldn’t overhear them.

 

Again, Nicole pulled on the mask she usually wore around others, blinking slowly in confusion. “What?” she replied with a small moue on her face, rising up so that she was propped against the head-board.

 

Faye huffed and jutted her hip out to the side, shifting her weight, letting one hand drop off of her hip in favor of waving it around in the empty air. “I was trying to fix Jake up, and you totally fucking sabotaged me.”

 

The redhead almost sighed out loud, having realized that when it was happening, but interceding regardless of her personal feelings on the matter. Faye, despite being an absolute mathematical genius, sometimes needed help when it came to the nuances of other people. She was a good observer, a good note-taker, but her blonde-haired roommate rarely took the time to draw in-depth conclusions. Nicole was more perceptive than that, having learned early on to pick up subtle cues from people to help with her own social awkwardness. There had been a time in her life where she hadn’t been very well-liked or possessed a great many friends. She still didn’t have many close friends, preferring to keep her own counsel, but she had learned how to get along easier in a society than often misunderstood people with her particular quirks.

 

“I know,” Nicole finally told her, picking absently at the bedcover, her face the picture of contrition, “But Faye, I don’t think you really stopped to consider the consequences of that.”

 

“Consequences?” The blonde echoed, her brow furrowing, “What consequences? Jake gets himself a lover, something to entertain him while we’re here, and a nice memory to take home with him. I don’t see what the big deal is.” She made another waving motion with her hand.

 

No, Faye wouldn’t see where the big deal was. She assumed that because she was laid back in matters of the heart that everyone else was too. It boggled her mind that Nicole turned down guys who were perfectly willing to take her out in favor of her vibrator, but the redhead had made a decision a long time ago to not squander herself on men that she didn’t truly care about. So what if she spent a few more nights alone than her peers? But Faye didn’t understand that kind of idealism. She thought of relationships in terms of practicalities. She was horny, so she would have sex whether her boyfriend was within reach or not.

 

“Faye,” Nicole sighed, “Jake’s not…He’s not like you.”

 

“What does that mean?” Faye questioned sharply, but Nicole shook her head, cutting off the other girl.

 

“Jake doesn’t do relationships, even short-lived ones, without investing his feelings into it. If he and Cougar would have gotten involved, really involved, he would have been sad when we left. Think about what happened after Veronica, or remember Lacey. Jesus, he moped for months after Lacey,” Nicole stated quietly, her eyes vague and unfocused as she relived Jake’s three-month depression after his girlfriend of four months broke up with him. Their Jakey was a tenderhearted boy for all of his muscles and wit.

 

Faye sighed and her posture lost its defensiveness as she too remembered the Lacey fiasco, and how she and Nicole snuck into her dorm and trashed the other girl’s final project in a moment of immature, drunken revenge. “Yeah, I guess…” she reluctantly agreed and walked over to flop on her own bed closer to the doorway, kicking her shoes off onto the floor. “I just…I don’t know. Jake seemed so happy this morning, even though he was being all weird at the same time. Didn’t he seem happy? And last night at the club he kept talking about ‘that hot Hispanic bartender.’”

 

“You both were,” Nicole provided helpfully with a little giggle, “The two of you were mooning over him like dogs in heat.”

 

“Shut up,” Faye laughed and grabbed the pillow behind her head, tossing it at the redhead playfully, “I was not that bad.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Nicole sing-songed, catching the pillow and hugging it to her chest. The two girls shared a glance and a giggle, the rest of the tension dissipating from the room. Then in all seriousness, she said, “And yeah, he did seem happy. But is it fair to him to let him hang his hopes on something that won’t last, knowing the heartache he’ll suffer later on?”

 

“Nicki, are you getting philosophical?” Faye asked, giving the redhead a sidelong glance.

 

Nicole rolled her eyes. “I hate it when you call me that.”

 

“Aw, but I like it,” the blonde haired girl teased, “My little Nicki, my Snickers bar, Snickerdoodle, Nickariffic.”

 

Groaning, Nicole tossed the pillow back at Faye. “Jesus, stop. It gets worse and worse the more you talk.” Faye giggled and let the pillow hit her stomach—Nicole had terrible aim; did she not have her contacts in yet?

 

“Besides,” the redheaded girl started up again, “I don’t think Cougar is the type of guy to like, get involved like that. I don’t think he wants to deal with emotional entanglements, which would have just made it even worse for Jake, knowing that he was with somebody who wasn’t as invested as he was.”

 

“How do you know that?” Faye rolled onto her side, propping her head up in her hand, clearly interested.

 

Standing up, Nicole walked over to her dresser, sliding the book on top of it. She shrugged nonchalantly. “He was, after all, picking up girls in a bar.”

 

“And we’re back to that,” the blonde sighed in exasperation, rolling back over and throwing an arm over her eyes dramatically.

 

“I’m just saying that people who really want to make a connection with someone don’t find it in a bar,” Nicole returned primly, and then she turned a bright smile onto her friend, “And now, if we’re done talking about this and you’re done being mad, we should go to the beach.”

 

At that suggestion Faye perked right up, having been dressed for the beach since she woke up that morning. She clapped and sprang off the bed. “I’ll get Jake!” she called as she sprinted out of the room.

 

“I have to put my contacts in, so give me a sec!” Nicki called back, pulling her swimsuit out of the dresser and taking it with her to the bathroom. The weather was nice for a day on the beach, sunny without being overly hot, and she was looking forward to lying out in the sun and drinking daiquiris in a floppy sun hat now that Mission: Fix-Up had been officially aborted.

 

\---

 

_Part Five_

 

Jake was incredibly, extraordinarily grateful that whatever bug had bitten both Nicki and Faye’s asses had decided to go away. That morning when he’d woken up next to Cougar—er, Carlos—he’d been rather happy. He felt quiet, not just in a physical sense, but also an inner one, lulled into complacency by a warm body against his. Apparently they had snuggled all night, which was charming because even when he’d woken up a little and rolled onto his opposite side, facing away from Cougar, the other man had followed, spooning up against his back with a tanned arm looped over Jake’s waist. It was warm and comfortable, and way too tempting to stay there in the nest of blankets surrounded with the scent of sex. It had occurred to him then that he’d better get up right that instant, because if Cougar left while he was still naked and warm with the smaller man’s body heat, Jake would feel too much like some dumb, lovesick girl in a movie.

 

He wasn’t some dumb, lovesick girl and knew better than to hope that this was something other than exactly what it had appeared to be. Cougar hadn’t magically fallen in love with him after one fuck, he was not going to woo Jensen or follow him back to the States; this was a one-night stand, keyword: night, meaning it ended in the morning.

 

So Jake had slid out of Carlos’ grasp and wrapped his towel around his waist, closing the door to the room silently. Flashes of the night, well, early morning really, played through his mind as he walked, taking note of the stiffness in his legs and the soreness inside of him. His lower back hurt from the unusual position and Jake decided that maybe he ought to start seriously joining Faye during her morning yoga routine if he was going to continue fucking guys instead of the half-assed participation he preferred, a nice stretch before or after his morning run.

 

“Good morning,” a voice drawled and Jake turned his head to see Faye sitting at the small dining table, drinking coffee from one of the four mugs they’d found in the kitchen cabinets. She was already showered and dressed, and appeared to be doing a crossword puzzle. He felt her eyes rove over him and take in his appearance, lingering on the aching spot on his neck where he was pretty sure a dark hickey was just waiting to be discovered, then she grinned wickedly. “Was it good?” she asked shamelessly.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake emphatically agreed, feeling a sudden blush creep across his features.

 

“So good he’s ruined you for all other men?” Faye gushed, propping her chin on her steepled hands.

 

Laughing, Jake shrugged. “Maybe.”

 

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I had a feeling he’d be a Ruiner.” Faye was quiet for a moment, and Jake asked her hesitantly, “You’re not mad are you?” His blonde haired friend looked up, startled, and then she began to laugh. “God, no. I’m glad one of us got to ride that cowboy, and you know, he took your guy-ginity, which I know you’ve been wavering on forever, so really I should be thanking him for taking your v-card and putting you out of your misery. It really has been torture, Jake, sitting on the sidelines, watching you sort out your sexuality. Now we can go pick up guys together!” She was so cheerful about it that Jake had to laugh. There was a reason he loved having girls for roommates, the first of which being that they were much neater than most guys, and the second being that they were so damn cute.

 

“Just because I had sex with a guy doesn’t mean I’ll be playing in the major leagues any time soon,” Jake cautioned her, but Faye was already swept away in her enthusiasm, rattling on about all the places gay guys were allowed that straight men just weren’t and how much fun they could have now that Jake was officially bisexual. It was so funny that Jake just patted her on the head as he continued towards the bathroom, laughing under his breath good-naturedly.

 

“Hey, should I get started on breakfast?” Faye called just as he was about to close the door.

 

“Sure!” Jake shouted and pushed the thin door shut behind him. He emerged fifteen minutes later feeling fresh as a daisy, the hot water and steam having helped to loosen some of his sore muscles, deliberately not thinking about the hot guy in his bed. For all he knew, Cougar had gotten up and left while he’d been showering. Best not to worry about it.

 

On his way back to his bedroom, he got waylaid by the kitchen, where the sausages were sizzling over the stove and Faye was whipping eggs in a bowl. “Hey,” she stopped him in his tracks with a word, “Is Cougar still here?”

 

“Uh,” Jake began eloquently, “He was when I walked in the bathroom. Has he escaped since then?”

 

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Faye shook her head, cradling the bowl and the whisk in her arms.

 

“Then he’s still here.”

 

“Okay,” Faye replied too casually, “Do you think he’ll want breakfast?”

 

Shrugging his shoulders nervously, Jake replied with, “I don’t know. I’ll offer.”

 

“Oh, okay. Good.” She nodded to herself with a little smile just beginning to tug at her lips.

 

Putting that odd little exchange behind him, Jake walked back into his sunny temporary bedroom and started pulling clothes out of his dresser. From out of the corner of his eye, he had a vague sense of movement and figured that Cougar must be awake or in the process of waking, so he spoke to him and offered him breakfast as instructed, escaping the bedroom as quickly as possible just in case he turned around and tried to tempt a sun-warmed, sleepy Carlos into round two. Instead he went and sat on the patio at the picnic table, his glasses darkening to ward off the sunshine, eyes taking in the edge of sand he could see within walking distance and the endless blue of water-meets-sky. It really was breathtaking and he was happy that he’d come with Nicki and Faye on their Spring Break, even if it meant he’d had to work extra hard at the restaurant and take on more side-jobs, going so far as to write and sell a few papers to make ends meet.

 

MIT was expensive and his parents were no fucking help when it came to tuition. Despite being awarded a scholarship, there were still several thousand dollars a semester that wasn’t covered. So Jake had taken out a huge loan to cover the remaining costs, because his parents were dirt poor and frankly, probably wouldn’t have helped if they could. But MIT had been Jake’s one and only dream since childhood. He still didn’t have any other dreams than MIT, and so he was willing to work to achieve it. If that meant waiting tables in a fake-Italian restaurant and fixing other people’s computers on the sly, then fine, that’s what he would do. It was better than being stuck in fucking New Hampshire with his walking-dead mother, or worse, California with his dad.

 

It was easier to just wash his hands of them both, because they were never going to change or stop being who they were, and Jake didn’t want to be that kid who quietly enabled them. He was done with putting his mom to bed when she was too doped up to function, and lying awake in bed wondering if his dad was going to come home and break shit or if he’d gotten scooped up by the cops for the night. When John Jensen had left one night and hadn’t come back, Jake and his sister had quietly cracked open a couple of beers in the backyard and tipped the cans upside-down, watching the amber liquid spill onto the ground and get soaked up by the earth, a private celebration of good riddance.

 

Faye came out of the house with two plates in her hands, silverware balanced on top of them precariously. “Thanks,” Jake smiled gratefully and took the plate from her left hand. “Mm-hm,” his roommate nodded, sliding into the seat to Jake’s right and scooping up a forkful of eggs. “So what do you want to do today?” Faye asked after she’d swallowed.

 

Jensen shrugged, eyed her bikini top and said, “I don’t have any plans, but apparently you want to go to the beach.”

 

“I do,” Faye agreed with a hearty sigh, then beamed at him, “So you feel up to it?”

 

Shrugging, he replied, “Sure, why not?”

 

Then Nicki walked out onto the patio, followed closely by Cougar, still in his rumpled clothes with his hair unbound, matted in spots where the strands had tangled. The hat was back as well. Thus ensued the most awkward breakfast ever followed by the most awkward goodbye ever, and topped off by a lonely afternoon walking around town buying foodstuffs for dinner that night and breakfast the next morning. Nicki was reading a book and had expressed a keen interest in being left alone. Jake obliged, knowing that was Nicole’s way of retreating from reality for awhile in order to settle her own tumultuous emotions or resolve problems. Faye resorted to physical exertion to do the same thing, and so he knew better than to try and catch up with her on her walk, begging for company. The only thing it would get him is snapped at or, worse yet, dragged into being the audience to a mad monologue on why she was upset.

 

That was the downside to living with women. There was always a lot of emotion flying around all over the place, and Jake wasn’t particularly interested in being caught up in the shit-storm. So when Faye and less often, Nicki, started rampaging, Jake tried to just stay out of the way until they settled back down.

 

He had just come back from shopping when a cheerful, smiling Faye practically jumped him as soon as he opened the door, shouting, “Let’s go to the beach!” She took one of the sacks from him, bouncing into the kitchen to set it on the counter and begin putting things away.

 

“Is Nicki coming?” he asked lightly, putting away the other bag. There was fresh fruit for breakfast and flour tortillas. He bought beef and beans for burritos that night, a little rice, and some kind of cinnamon spice mixture and a small bottle of honey, so they could fry up the leftover tortillas in the morning and have something sweet. In fact, he was tempted to fry some up at that moment, the thought of the little treat making his mouth water. ‘No,’ he scolded himself, forcing the thought out of his mind. It was something Jake had grown good at over the years, a survival skill maybe.

 

Faye nodded. “Yeah, we kissed and made up.” Her voice was teasing and happy, and Jake responded to it with a lascivious grin. “Aw, there was kissing and I missed it?” He snapped his fingers in an ‘aw, schucks’ gesture.

 

“What do you care?” Faye parried, “You’re here, you’re queer; what more do you need?”

 

“Ooh, ouch,” Jake rubbed over his heart, “That hurts, Faye. Really. Right here. Can’t you see me spouting arterial spray everywhere?” Rolling her eyes, she playfully whacked him in the stomach, and Jake pretended to double over in pain. “Oh! Oh, no! I think you broke something!” Laughter joined in with theirs from somewhere behind him as Nicki casually joined them wearing huge, dark bug-eye sunglasses and a white sunhat. There was a jaunty red bow tied around it and it had clearly been selected to match her white bikini with the red cherries on it, and the sheer, white cover-up. She looked cute and Jake told as much when he picked her up and gave her a bear hug, just to watch the wide grin form on her face as she squealed, “Jake!” and make her squirm until she was back on her feet. “Thank you,” she added brightly as she whirled away from him, swinging a huge beach bag with her that Jake had to dodge away from.  “Are we ready to go?” Nicki asked, surveying them both.

 

“Did you grab towels for all of us? Sunscreen? Tanning lotion? Books?” Faye ticked off items on her fingers, watching as Nicki nodded. “Okay, I’ll grab waters.”

 

Jake cleared his throat and interrupted the excitement to say, “I’ll leave you guys to figure out what we need. I have to go put my trunks on.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Distracted, the girls waved him away, and Jake strode into his room, glancing only momentarily at the mussed bed and the bottle of lube he’d stolen from Nicki sitting on the shared nightstand between the two beds. He should really pick up in there, see if he could hunt down a set of spare sheets, already knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sleep on _those_ sheets. It’d be too weird. Instead he pulled out his swim trunks, knowing that if he dawdled too long that they’d come busting down his door, wondering what the hell was taking so long. Thank god for his trusty black swim trunks that always matched no matter what retarded shirt he was wearing. He’d tried to go to an indoor waterpark with Nicki once not matching, wearing red and white luau-print trunks and an orange t-shirt with a rude slogan on it, and she had baldly refused to start the car until he put on something that matched. See? Persnickety. On the plus, he no longer dressed like such a complete fucking geek thanks to the help of his roommates. Now if only he could get the hang of flirting, he’d be golden.

 

He left the room a moment later to find the girls waiting by the door, a much-battered and beloved copy of _Huckleberry Finn_ in his hand that he tossed at Nicki. “Can you put that in your bag for me? You know, in case I’d like to lay around and read a book while I get my tan on.”

 

“Sure,” Nicki chirped as she shoved it in along the side. Whatever had happened in the last two minutes, Faye had acquired her carry-on bag and it too was stuffed full of somethings. Jensen didn’t ask, figuring they’d tell him if he really needed to know, and instead offered an arm to both of his friends. “Ladies, shall we walk?”

 

“We shall, good sir,” Faye agreed with a falsified posh accent, and Nicki followed her with, “What a grand idea!” And so they were off, locking the door to their rented bungalow behind them and managing about three paces away from the door before Nicole gently disentangled herself and wandered ahead, plucking a flower off of a bush on the edge of somebody’s yard and sliding it behind her ear, chattering excitedly, loud enough that Jake and Faye could hear her.

 

Faye, being of a more affectionate nature than Nicki, kept her arm snug around Jensen’s, only releasing it when Nicole disappeared into the white, sandy dunes, crying, “Oh my god! You guys gotta see this!” Jogging to catch up, Faye soon disappeared out of sight as well, but Jake just kept his pace until he started descending down a gentle slope onto the sand as well. The girls were gawking at the waterfront, and Faye had her phone out, snapping pictures as fast as she could. “Man, Damian is going to be ridiculously jealous when I show him these. You know I’m still kind of pissed that he wouldn’t come.”

 

“The program’s a great opportunity, Faye,” Nicki commented as the three of them wandered around on the beach, looking for a spot where they wouldn’t be tripping over other people if they moved an inch, heading further and further away from the overcrowded area.

 

Apparently they hadn’t been the only tourists to decide it was the perfect day to spend at the beach, because the place was packed. There were Spring Breakers everywhere, girls lying on towels, guys playing volleyball and Frisbee; girls in skimpy bathing suits lathering on tanning lotion (behind the darkened lenses of his glasses, Jensen was raptly absorbing those scenes like they were the prelude to a porno; he may have been half-gay, but he still loved and appreciated boobies as much as the next heterosexual guy); guys offering to help with the application of sunscreen; people drinking and dancing and swimming. Out in the water, Jensen could see jet-skiers and a few boats in the distance, a few people on surfboards, and some people on the shore, taking lessons that would eventually lead to surfing. It was over-stimulating, hellacious even, and Jake was loving every second of it.

 

A million ideas popped in his head at once about what he wanted to do, what he wanted to see. Maybe he and Faye could pool their resources and rent a jet-ski for awhile?

 

“I know,” Faye grumped, “But I still wish he would’ve come. I mean, what kind of idiot passes this up?”

 

Nicole didn’t say anything else and neither did Jake, because when Faye was particularly determined to be Faye-like it was just best to let the subject drop. Instead, Nicki just shrugged her shoulders and jogged over to a spot free of people and debris, bouncing triumphantly in place. “Good, right? We’re close enough to the concessions and bathrooms, but far enough that I don’t have to worry about some asshole with a Nerf football trampling me to death.”

 

“Excellent work, Captain McNickerson!” Faye congratulated her as they walked over, and Jensen cackled both at the nickname and the face of utter disgust Nicki made. “Too much?” the blonde asked innocently, and Nicki stuck her tongue out at her. Faye responded in kind while the redhead dropped her giant bag and started digging in it, pulling out one of the spare blankets from their cottage. Jake took one end, helping her spread it out, and Faye helped by dropping her bag and supervising thoroughly.

 

The girls used their shoes to anchor the blanket somewhat, and Nicki made Jake hold her stupid hat while she took her cover-up off and shoved it in the tote bag of the abyss. Seriously, that thing had to have a dimensional pocket in it to hold that much stuff and not split at the seams. He said as much, and his roommates both laughed, proving once more that they were made for each other. Ah, the joys of geek-humor.

 

He was shifting back and forth in the sand impatiently while Faye stripped off her shorts and tank top, revealing a black tankini (seriously, sometimes living with girls ruined one’s machismo) that had neon paint splatters on it, and joined Nicki on the blanket, who had retrieved her dumb hat and left it on the blanket next to her. The two of them started slathering on their respective lotions. Nicole grabbed the sparkly gold bottle, and it was sad that Jake knew enough to understand that was tanning lotion. Faye pulled out a pink bottle of Coppertone from her bag and began slathering on white goop, and then she looked up at Jake pointedly. He grumbled wordlessly about to turn on his heel and leave when Faye said, “Jake, you’re whiter than bread. Put the damn sunscreen on. Unless you want to spend the rest of our vacation nursing a burn?”

 

Nicki laughed and said to Faye, “Remember when he got second degree burns on his ears last summer? That was so funny.”

 

“I know,” Faye chuckled, “Except the profuse whining. I could have done without that. Men are such babies.”

 

“Yeah,” Nicki agreed, fluffing her chin-length burgundy hair and plopping her sun hat back on her head. She reclined all the way, seeming to dismiss them and their bickering with the motion. ‘I couldn’t care less,’ her posture said. Faye was also preoccupied but with something in her bag, rummaging around until she came up with a Sudoku puzzle book triumphantly. Then she dove back in for one of the mechanical pencils Jake knew she took everywhere.

 

Jake groaned and snatched the bottle from where it was left discarded on the blanket next to Faye. “God, what is this? Some sort of witchy-woman hoodoo crap to make me do your bidding?” His roommates giggled, but didn’t answer. Nicki was biting her lip like she was holding back smart-aleck commentary. A good thing too, because once he and Nicki started trading quips, it was hard for them to stop. Eventually the entire conversation would devolve into ‘your mama’ and ‘that’s what she said’ jokes.

 

Rolling his eyes, Jake stripped off his shirt and tossed his glasses on top of it. Impatiently, he got as much as he could by himself, and then he sat down on the blanket in front of Faye, pouting. “Do my back?” he asked, waggling the bottle of Coppertone over his shoulder at her. She took it without comment and did a much more thorough application than Jake had himself, and he took a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the hands on his back, smoothing over his skin and gently coaxing the muscles in his back to relax. “There you go, bunny,” Faye said as her hands left him, and Jake turned around to face his friends.

 

His brain picked up speed again after a moment, recalling his hurriedly sketched-out plan for the day, most of which would involve coercing his friends to get off the blanket and play with him. “So, who wants to rent a jet-ski?” he asked while he slid his glasses back on.

 

“Hmm,” Nicki hummed and appeared to give it some thought before shrugging her shoulders. Predictable.

 

Faye laughed and said, “Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. Why not?”

 

She made a shrugging motion, complete with her hands up in the air. “Okay, I guess. Why not?” she echoed, “Go find out how much it costs, and give me at least half an hour to bake. Then I’m all yours.” With that said Faye joined Nicki in the reclined position and shoved up her top to reveal her stomach to the sun.

 

“Can you get me a daiquiri while you’re gone?” Nicki asked, sitting up to dig through her wallet for cash.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake responded, snatching the dinero from her fingers and pulling his shirt back on before he sat up and wandered off. “I’ll be right back,” he called, and the girls waved half-heartedly. They probably had already closed their eyes and tipped their heads back, like concentration would help draw more UVs their direction.

 

First Jake found the rental shack and checked out the prices. He winced and thought that he would definitely need somebody to pool resources with him if that’s what he wanted to do. Then he headed off to one of the open air bars located beachside, disappearing through the wide doorway in search of a daiquiri. From out of the corner of his eye, Jake caught sight of a familiar looking ponytail of long, black hair and a man’s back. The hat wasn’t right though, and so he didn’t take too much time to pause on it. Surely there was more than one sexy Mexi-man with a ponytail nearby. Life couldn’t be that serendipitous, could it?

 

\---

 

TBC…


	3. Book One: Parts Six to Eight

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: M

Warnings: Lots

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: Sorry if some of the Spanish translations are wrong. I am relying heavily on SpanishDict because I can’t remember how to correctly conjugate all of my verb forms.

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Part Six_

 

His apartment was quiet and dark, absent of the chatter of other voices except those that drifted through the thin walls in subdued murmurs and the occasional muffled shout. He could hear his neighbor’s telelvision going as Cougar stooped to pick up a note that had been slipped under his door while he was away.

 

Senora Miguela wrote:

_Carlos- Tengo muchos tamales._ _Venga y obtener algunos. –Sr. M._

Smiling to himself, Cougar placed the note on his coffee table with care and made a note to stop next door later to provide the eccentric widow with some company. It had taken him awhile to figure out why the older woman had, for lack of a better word, adopted him upon his arrival in Mazatlan. She didn’t keep any mementos of her family in her apartment, and she and her husband had never been wealthy. The woman had been forced to sell her wedding ring to have her husband buried properly. Her children were adults who had all moved away and had their own busy lives. Senora Miguela saw them a handful of times in a given year, and the rest of her time she spent puttering about on her picture frames, a profitable hobby that enabled her to keep her apartment and a modest standard of living. In short, she was lonely, and so she mothered the other tenants of their small apartment building to fill the void her empty nest had left her with.

 

Some day, she said, when she was old and could no longer do for herself, she would go live with her oldest daughter, who had married well and called several times a week to make sure that her mother was fine. “Until that day,” the woman had proclaimed, “I will keep my house and my life, and do as I please. I spent most of my time on this earth wiping others’ asses, and I will not surrender my independence so easily.” Then she had scooped another pile of pintos onto Cougar’s plate and said, “Finish that. I hate having leftovers.”

 

As he walked through his apartment, taking in the sparse furnishings—the coffee table he’d had handmade; the threadbare, overstuffed couch that his neighbor across the hall, a seamstress, had made a slipcover for; the fishing gear that occupied a good portion of the scarred wooden floor of his living room—and hooking his hat on the pegs he used for both jackets, hats, and even sometimes his keys, Cougar chuckled to himself thinking about Senora Miguela and her insistent need to feed him, reminded both of his mother and his sister, Benoite, who had inherited their mother’s gift in the kitchen.

 

Cougar’s eyes glanced up automatically, finding the hanging picture of himself and his four sisters. There was another below it that included their parents, spouses (Benoite and Elita had married young; his oldest sister, Carmen, was too busy working for her medical doctorate to be concerned with such things, and his youngest, Jimena, was only seventeen), and his ever-growing gaggle of nieces and nephews, and a third that was just the five original Alvarez siblings with their parents. The frames around the photos were handmade from shells and ocean-smoothed glass, pieces of Senora Miguela’s work.

 

Shaking his head, Cougar dragged his thoughts back to the practicalities of the day, but told himself to call his parents soon and find out how everyone was doing.

 

His hair was a mess, he was pretty sure, and he really needed a shower, disliking the lingering scent of the college boy that clung to him (faint citrus and the hint of something sweeter, like margarita swallowed with salt) and the memory it evoked of Tecate and Twizzlers, which he had been craving ever since he had first kissed the young man in his shiny, rented kitchen.

 

The bedroom in the apartment was, as to be expected, small. It held his bed and a second-hand highboy, and the closet where he kept his nicer clothing for work and special occasions, the ones he didn’t want to wrinkle. There were a few pictures in his room, mostly postcards that he’d collected and put in frames bartered off of Senora Miguela, and the nice one of his parents that stood in a plain, silver frame on the highboy, taken last year on his father’s birthday. Cougar eased his dirty clothes off and tossed them into the laundry basket on the edge of his bed, and padded to the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door because who was there to barge in on him? Besides, if he did, the condensation accumulated on the walls in the bathroom and made the ugly, vinyl floor hazardously slick. So he just tugged out his gifted black ponytail and set it on the sink, cranking the knobs in the shower and waiting until the spray began to warm up before stepping in.

 

Cougar enjoyed his showers, maybe more than he ought to. He loved scrubbing his hair until the shampoo was a great, foamy lather and letting the water rinse away the dirt and oil, massaging the conditioner in that kept the long mane soft and shiny; picking up a wash cloth and bar of soap, swiping away the sweat and smells until he was fresh and new, and ready to begin again. The last thing he did was rinse out the conditioner, watching the adulterated water swirl around the drain before dropping out of sight, following the flow of the pipes to the water treatment facility where it too would be cleaned and begin its journey anew.

 

He cut off the flow from the shower head and pushed the curtain aside, tugging the towel from the spot where it hung on the bar and drying himself as much as possible before he stepped out and made his way back to the bedroom.

 

Cougar wasn’t working at the bar that night, his first night off in weeks, so he avoided the closet in favor of the highboy. He’d lose out in tips that night, he was sure, but also found that he didn’t care that much. He was ready to have the day to himself without worrying about drink orders or energy snacks. It occurred to him for the first time that day that his incubus-self seemed rather well-fed, content to lay curled in on itself like some great cat napping in the sunshine. He hoped idly that Jake felt alright, that he had not taken too much from the young man and made him lethargic or ill. Staring into a drawer stuffed with casual clothes, Cougar pushed the thoughts of the gringo out of his mind. He had seen Jake that morning, and the young man had appeared fine. Finally, he decided on loose navy cargo shorts and a white t-shirt, and he’d stop by his neighbor’s for tamales on his way out the door and ask her if there was anything she needed while he was out. Sometimes when Cougar walked down to the older pier to go fishing, he would take the long route there and collect shells and such things for the old woman. Ducking back into the bathroom, Carlos brushed out his hair quickly and, after a second of thought and a mental shrug, used his gifted hair tie on the pedestal sink to pull it back once more.

 

In the hallway, he grabbed his favorite fishing hat—a straw fedora that he’d heard was called a Panama hat; whatever, it kept the sun off his face and didn’t make him overheat like the battered leather cowboy would after a few hours—and settled it over his head, as well as sliding his feet into the woven hemp sandals that were easy to find at the vendor stalls in Mazatlan.

 

With long, easy strides, nodding a hello to Senor Garcia as he left the apartment across the hall, Carlos made his way next door to the apartment whose number was obscured by a large vine of fake flora and a hand-painted welcome sign. Garcia’s wife was the seamstress who had made him a slipcover for his couch and in exchange Cougar had given her twenty dollars, a container of his mother’s chili, and the recipe for said chili. He loved the simplicity of living in Mazatlan, how if you stayed long enough you could learn to barter with the locals in a fashion that was almost going out of style around the world, how the neighbors took care of each other and looked after each other’s children. Some months he could get by on the money it took to pay rent and maybe a hundred extra dollars if he was being frugal.

 

Of course, it wasn’t always a paradise. There were men who thought to bully others, people who tried to sell drugs, theft and vandalism. Most of the trouble tended to come from tourists, foreigners who assumed that because the natives weren’t wealthy that they were also low-class. They soon found themselves corrected. The neighborhood usually banded together in times of strife to either help with the aftermath or push out those unwanted influences. Cougar lived in a peaceful neighborhood full of nice people, and he wanted to keep it that way so if every once in awhile he needed to glare threateningly at a brand new face in the neighborhood, so be it.

 

Senora Miguela opened the door after his second round of knocking, a bit more insistently done that time around, with large, plastic framed bifocals perched on her nose and her graying hair pinned up on her head. She grinned.

 

“Carlos!” the elderly woman cried, darting into the hallway to grab his face and kiss his cheek, “Buenas tardes, mi chico! Como estas? No te quedes ahi parado. Vienen en, vienen en!” _Good afternoon, my boy! How are you? Don’t just stand there. Come in, come in!_ With a soft smile of genuine affection lighting up his face, Cougar followed the hastily waved hand as Senora Miguela danced back into her apartment wearing an outmoded dress with short sleeves in a light plaid pattern, and a pair of white sneakers with Velcro tabs. “Debe estar aqui para mis famosos tamales,” his neighbor teased as she walked into the small kitchen and grabbed a container from the fridge. _You must be here for my famous tamales._

“Si, Senora. Gracias por la invitacion.” _Thank you for the invitation._

Helping himself to a seat at the kitchen table, Cougar waited until Miguela placed a platter in front of him with two steaming tamales on it. He knew if he tried to help that the older woman’s sensibilities would be offended, for she had grown up in a culture where the women took care of the men and the men provided for their families. To insinuate that she could no longer do so when clearly she was physically able, especially in her own home where he was a guest, would have been incredibly rude. So even though he had always helped his own mother at home where everyone had shared the responsibilities of cooking, cleaning, and yardwork, Carlos allowed himself to be served. The one and only time he had tried to assist Miguela, he had wound up with a smack on his rear from a wooden spoon and the older woman telling him in no uncertain terms that he was not to go poking around in her kitchen. Of course, maybe that order had more to do with the fact that some of her drawers were filled with glass pieces and seashells and pieces of metal. Yes, that could certainly have influenced her vehemence some.

 

“De nada, Carlos. Es un placer,” Miguela said as she smiled and sat down across from him, at the spot where a variety of objects lay ringed around in neat piles, waiting to be used. In the center of it all sat a small rectangle of thin wood with a hole cut out in the middle. That was the base to all of her frames, where she would affix her shells and other oddities, then grout them into place. The backs of all her picture frames were made from metal and Cougar had never asked before but always wondered where they came from. He asked that day in between politely chewed bites of the most excellent tamales he’d ever had, though for loyalty’s sake he would still say that his mama’s were better.

 

“Senor Navarro, un viejo amigo de mi marido de la fabrica, su hijo, Roberto, es un ofrebre. Que los hace para mi y yo les dublan en su lugar.” _Mister Navarro, an old friend of my husband’s from the factory, his son, Roberto, is a metalsmith. He makes them for me, and I bend them into place._ Miguela glanced up from her work, holding a brush with paste on it in one hand, and paused thoughtfully. “No creo que pensaba que iba a tener tanto éxito, pero yo, obviamente, demostró que estaban equivocados.” _I don’t think they thought I would be so successful, but obviously I proved them wrong._ She grinned wryly, perhaps a little devilishly, and then turned her gaze back down at her work.

 

“Usted debe hacer sibo un abogado, Senora Miguela; usted es un tiburon,” Cougar joked. _You should have been a lawyer, Missus Miguela; you’re a shark._ Miguela cackled and shook her head. “Te imaginas!” she cried as she wiped delicate tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes. _Can you imagine!_

He stayed for another thirty minutes while Miguela finished laying out all of the pieces for her latest picture frame and securing them on. Then the older woman pushed back her chair and stretched her back, saying, “Necesito ahora mirar mi programa. Soy cansado.” _I need to watch my program now. I’m tired._  

 

Cougar stood up and took his dish to the sink, rinsing it carefully before setting it on the side the way he had seen Miguela stack her dishes before. “Okay,” he said, “Gracias otra vez.” _Thank you again._

“De nada, mi chico,” she smiled and gave him a quick, motherly squeeze, and Cougar hugged her back with the appropriate amount of platonic enthusiasm. Before he managed to make it out the door, Senora Miguela saddled him with a plastic container of extra tamales and a plastic bucket should he find any oddities on his way to the pier. Even though he hadn’t told her where he was planning on spending the rest of his day, it wasn’t that hard for her to guess. The pier was one of Cougar’s favorite places to go when he had time to while away, and that day he had ample time to do fuck-all with. It must have showed in his clothing choices or his demeanor. Something like that. Mothers just had a way of knowing.

 

Slipping back into his apartment, Cougar put the food away and grabbed his favorite fishing pole and the rest of his gear.

 

Fishing was pretty much the only time Cougar made use of his car down in Mazatlan. He’d driven it over the border when he had first come to Mexico, and there it had stayed, an older model Jeep that mostly sat parked in the lot they shared with the building next door. Loading his fishing gear up into the car, Cougar put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. The old truck gave a coughing roar, then settled into a low rumble like an asthmatic old man, and he drove it down to the beach that was closest to the older pier, the one where men like him came to soak up the silence and tune out the rest of the world.

 

It was fairly absent from college kids, Cougar noted as he hopped out of the Jeep, and let his hand curl around the handle to Miguela’s plastic bucket. He walked up and down the beach for awhile, sand sifting through his shoes, collecting shells that he thought looked interesting or were in good condition; picking up pieces of ocean-tumbled glass and stones until the bucket was half-full.

 

On his way back to the truck, where he’d drop off the bucket and grab his fishing stuff, Cougar stopped in at one of the open-air bars and grabbed a beer. The waitress brought him a Tecate and he flirted with her mostly on auto-pilot when she lingered at his table. As he sipped his beer, he couldn’t help but remember the taste of beer and strawberry Twizzlers, and he made a mental note to stop at the convenience store on his way home. It would be worth it even if he had to pay an arm and a leg, because goddammit, he’d never wanted Twizzlers so bad in his life. Eventually he drank the last of the beer and paid for a bottled water, which he took with him as he slipped out one of the open archways and went to go store Miguela’s bucket in the truck so that he could grab his own possessions to while away the day with.

 

\---

 

_Part Seven_

 

The sun was setting, the sky over the ocean turning a shocking array of colors: orange, peach, pink, salmon, yellow, violet, all of that creeping towards the navy blue of night. Faye was taking pictures of it and sending them to her boyfriend, Damian, on her cell phone with clever little captions, and Nicki had finally set down her floppy hat and joined the party. She was a little worse for wear already—well, they all were, as they’d been drinking on and off since about four o’ clock, but hey that’s what Spring Break was for, right?—and was playing a friendly game of volleyball with a group of people that had set up a net near their blanket. Some guy was ‘showing her how to serve’ and being as touchy-feely about it as he possibly could, and the redhead was buzzed enough to let him get away with it despite the fact that Nicole’s high school volleyball team had won their championships all three years that she had played with them. Nicki knew how to serve, could probably do it better than all the guys playing, but she was having fun getting her flirt on.

 

Jake wondered for a second if she was going to break her self-imposed fast and hook up tonight, but discarded that thought as soon as it formed. Sure, sometimes Nicki liked to be a tease, and she’d kiss and flirt until she had guys drooling after her, but in the end she always said no. Her last fuck had probably been with her last boyfriend, Cade, and it had been over a year since they’d broken up.

 

He slanted a look over at Faye, who was typing out something on her phone, thumbs flying over the keyboard. “What’s up with Damian?” Jake asked her, and she shrugged. “He says he’s not having any fun, but the volunteer work is going great and proving rewarding. What does that mean? ‘Rewarding?’ Money is rewarding. Good grades are rewarding. Awards are rewarding. I can’t imagine that helping a bunch of inner city kids go on a fake archeological dig is that rewarding.”

 

Jake clutched his stomach as he burst out laughing, already knowing that this was going to be a painful one. He rolled, he guffawed, he pounded his fists into the sand all while Faye glared daggers at him. When he sobered enough to begin speaking, one look at her face was enough to set him off again.

 

“Jesus, Faye,” Jake wheezed, “I’ve never seen you give anybody this much shit over volunteering before. I think you’re just mad because he’d rather do that than piss away his money coming here.”

 

Faye grumbled under her breath and pouted, then finally her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m mad because I don’t understand why he’d rather be there with them than here with me.”

 

For that one, Jake actually lowered his glasses to stare at his friend incredulously over the tops of the rims. His lips twitched in a smile and he had to forcibly tamp down on the urge to do so. He was just buzzed enough that he offered his opinion freely and without finesse, the only way to explain the intricacies of human relations to Faye without resorting to statistics and graphs. He didn’t have time to make a flow chart right now. “Faye, your relationship isn’t important to Damian because it’s not important to you.” Her mouth gaped open, but Jake forged ahead obliviously, “You cheat on him all the time. It’s clear to see that you’re just hanging on to him until something better comes along, and he knows that.”

 

“What…I…but then why doesn’t he break up with me?” Faye asked, her hands loose in her lap, no indication of genuine emotional distress anywhere on her countenance. She was just curious, maybe a little confused.

 

At that, Jake just chuckled and told her, “Because a consistent piece of ass is a consistent piece of ass. Why should he go out and hunt down a new C.P.A. when he already has one? Convenience, Faye. He’s with you for the same reason you’re with him. You two are like the blind leading the blind in a maze that goes nowhere.”

 

Just then he made the mistake of looking into Faye’s eyes, and Jake figured that he should have quit while he was ahead.

 

“Fuck you!” Faye cried out after his last comment, her face pinched with annoyance and the sparking temper that hovered close to the surface of her, punching him in the arm with all the force she could muster at such a terrible angle, and rolling off the blanket to stomp away, heading towards Nicki and the volleyball players. Jake watched her go, chuckling to himself as he pictured his blind people leading each other on a merry chase in a circular labyrinth. It wasn’t the nicest thing he’d ever said to someone, but it definitely wasn’t the meanest either. Faye would get over it once she worked off some of her mad and concluded that Jake was actually right about everything.

 

In the meantime, he would just go get another pina colada. Those things were delicious! Man, he totally hadn’t believed Faye until she stuck the straw in his mouth and made him take a sip, but he was hooked! The coconut, and the pineapple, and the rum, and the cherry, and did he mention the rum? Fucking incredible.

 

Springing up off the ground, Jake put his flip-flops back on and almost skipped (but he totally didn’t because that wouldn’t be manly at all) inside the bar. It was way more crowded than he remembered it being, mostly filled up with vacationers like himself, but he could spot a few darker faces in the crowd, mostly clustered over by the small stage where a group of musicians was setting up. A cacophony of voices fought for his attention, and as he walked through the place he caught bits and pieces of conversations that made no sense in his head. “And he—banana inside—cool song—love your—oh em gee, girl—tenemos—a la playa—circles around me—so hot!”

 

Jake was almost at the bar and he was scanning for an opening, but couldn’t see one. A couple of bros with their gel-laden hair and popped collars were ringed around one side of the bar, talking and laughing and in general being obnoxious what with the fact that they were breathing and all. Their body language screamed ownership of the space around them, warning other people to back away lest they be judged and found wanting. He would have moved too except the rest of the bar was crowded with people on stools and more people yet standing, waiting to order. What he didn’t understand was why all those people were overcrowded on that end of the bar, and these guys were nonchalantly taking up all the space they physically could. There was more than enough room for them to shuffle down, or better yet, it didn’t take six guys to order a drink, some of them could go sit.

 

He cleared his throat. None of them so much as glanced in his direction.

 

Stepping a little closer, Jake raised his voice and said, “Excuse me.”

 

One of the bros, a tall guy with shoulders like a line-backer, glanced over his shoulder. “Sup?” he replied coolly.

 

“Can I just scoot past you guys?” Jake said, nodding towards the bar.

 

Line-backer’s friend, Fauxhawk, tuned in to the conversation, ceasing his riveting dissertation on the pros and cons of hair gel versus hair wax just so that he could share a look with his friend, shrug, and step off to the side. “Dudes, fucking move!” Fauxhawk barked, but clearly he and Line-backer were the level-headed ones of the group.

 

Two of the bros looked Jensen over, one of them visibly sneering as the other drawled, “Look, man, we’re still ordering, ‘kay? So just, like, chill.” Jake raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, his mouth opening. He knew that whatever popped out of his mouth was likely to be loaded with sarcasm and antagonism, but it was too late to stop the flow of words. By the time he thought to check on his brain-to-mouth filter, he realized that it had dissolved somewhere around his fourth pina colada. Slippery little suckers. They just snuck right up on you, didn’t they?

 

“Look, _bra_ , I’m trying to ‘chill’ but it’s like a hundred fucking degrees right now and all the ice is behind the bar. So let me just order my drink and you can go back to making sure they don’t sell all the liquor before you can make up your minds.” He may not have been in control of his words, but Jensen damn well remembered to keep his tone light. The contradiction worked and it confused the Neanderthals. By the puzzled looks on their faces, they knew they had been insulted, but none of them were quite sure how to respond to it without seeming like they were overreacting.

 

“Dude, come on,” Fauxhawk said, directing his comment at the group Spokesperson, a bro wearing a pink polo shirt with close-cropped brown hair. The guy frowned at Jensen, trying to work up a come-back no doubt, and while he did so the guy behind his sidekick made some sort of hand gesture with one of the other guys, pounding their fists together in a repetitive motion and backing out of the tight circle of frat boys. “Later, dudes,” he said, “I’m not here to fight. I just want to get some _puss-ay_!” Line-backer guffawed in agreement and they pounded fists.

 

“Let’s go find the girls,” Line-backer said and the two of them took off into the crowd with beers in their hands. With a last look at his friends where Fauxhawk shook his head in something like disappointment (or maybe a mental ‘why do I hang with these idiots?’), he followed the others.

 

After Pussy left, the Sidekick had immediately back away from the Spokesperson into the vacated space, as society dictated that heterosexual males should when they can. Sidekick was staring at the display of liquors the bar offered, debating the merits of whiskey as opposed to rum with the last remaining bro, a thinner guy with straw colored hair and a face that looked like it had already seen the business end of someone’s fist. Surveying the remaining three bros, Jensen made an executive decision and slid into the opened space, flagging the bar keep. The guy next to him that had originally tried to rebuff Jensen looked at him like he couldn’t believe the blonde kid with the glasses had the nerve to defy him by—le gasp!—standing next to him at the bar.

 

“Can I get a pina colada?” he asked when the bartender came over.

 

“No problem, kid,” the guy replied in perfect, unaccented English. Jake automatically corrected his initial impression of the guy. It wasn’t that unusual to see black guys down south of the border. There was that whole thing way back when—y’know, slavery—where a whole bunch of them got uprooted from their tribal lands and shipped over like chattel. Their descendants blended in with the Hispanic population seamlessly, and so he’d thought nothing of the muscular black man with the scar over his eye serving drinks. Except his very American accent sounded almost jarring to Jensen, who was already accustomed to the fluid purr of accented English, and he tried to place it with a region in the States.

 

He was so preoccupied that he forgot all about the bros; the Spokesperson, the Sidekick, and Smushface. Then the Spokesperson reminded him of his existence by—surprise!—talking. “Are you serious? A pina colada? Hey, dudes, this guy just ordered a pina colada,” he called to his friends, and they paused long enough in the conversation to snicker obligingly. “Fag,” one of them muttered. It didn’t really matter who. Jensen didn’t really care. Name-calling was something that had ceased to affect Jake after kindergarten.

 

“Well, clearly you all _know_ what a pina colada is, so now who’s the fag?” Jake replied cheerfully.

 

“I’m not a fag,” Spokesperson spat.

 

“Really?” Jensen asked, “’Cause your pink shirt says otherwise.” He tapped his fingers on the bar, hoping that the bartender would make his drink a little faster so that he could return to his friends and leave these fuck-wads in his dust. God, he couldn’t stand guys like them.

 

“Fuck you!” Spokesperson thundered at him, and with an opening like that, who could resist? Not Jake, that’s for sure. “Sorry,” he cooed, his voice slippery like oil, “You’re not my type.” Just for the sake of theatrics, Jensen leveled his bright blue eyes at the douchebag and fluttered his eyelashes.

 

Was it really any surprise that he got punched in the head after that stunt?

 

He had a second to process the inevitability of it—the bro’s face turning a deep red color, his cheeks puffing out like an angry chipmunk—and from his periphery Jensen registered the indistinct motion of a flesh-colored object hurtling itself forwards. Acting purely on instinct at that point, Jake whipped his head to the side, taking the blow just above his ear instead of right on his face. His body followed the momentum and he slumped over the counter briefly before sliding down towards the floor, blinking frantically to clear the dark spots that were doing a synchronized swimming routine in front of his eyes. He heard someone shouting, “Hey! Cut that shit out!” but it was a distant concern.

 

Jensen didn’t have time to worry about that because the bro with the pink polo shirt on was flying at him, knocking him back into the stool where his sidekick should have been, sending the bamboo bar stool skittering across the floor. He got one arm wrapped around the frat boy’s chest and used his other fist to hit blindly, feeling a sick satisfaction any time he heard a sound of pain from the other guy, ignoring the punishing hits that he was being forced to take as well. Jake tucked his head down, praying that his glasses wouldn’t get broken, and managed to wrap one of his legs around the bro while they scrabbled on the ground. Rolling them, he pinned the other guy underneath his weight and punched at his stomach with a quick barrage, but he didn’t get very far with that tactic because the Spokesperson’s two remaining friends were dragging him off.

 

They got him half-way up and Jake lost his breath as he got kicked the stomach, popping him up the rest of the way and moving him just enough so that when gravity worked its magic, he crashed down on the ground next to the Spokesperson instead of on top of him.

 

Then there was somebody else in the fight, a fifth guy joining in. All Jake could make out from his vantage point of on-the-floor-and-hunched-over were brown sandals and tan feet shuffling over the floor as the sidekick swung and missed with a telltale swooshing of air.

 

There was the sound of cracking, splintering wood and a harsh cry of pain, and the Sidekick joined them on the ground. A man was talking somewhere behind him, his voice low and steady as he tapped something in his hand. “Kid, you don’t want to do that. Your two friends are down for the count. Do the smart thing and walk away. I got no problems demonstrating my homerun swing.” While that dangerously level voice spoke, tan feet shuffled closer. The man bent down—Jensen could tell it was man because of the hair on his legs, otherwise he was rather slender with long, lean muscles—and Jake rolled onto his back with a groan of pain.

 

When he forced his eyes open, he found that he was looking up into a very familiar, fine-boned face. “Hi, Cougar,” Jensen croaked and the other man shook his head in something like exasperation.

 

“Jake,” he acknowledged. Then Jake had a very strange feeling creep over him, something like panic, except it was located solely in his throat, accompanied with very strong stomach spasms. He rolled over just in time to prop himself up with his palms flat on the floor and proceeded to vomit until he was lightheaded. Shooting pain behind his eyes accompanied each heave, and Jensen vowed right then and there that he was never getting in another bar fight, ever, even if it meant losing his laptop or his morals.

 

\---

 

_Part Eight_

 

Sealing the lid on the Styrofoam box and proudly tapping the top where his fish lay in ice, Cougar finished packing up the last of his fishing gear, including the three fish he’d caught that day, and heaved it up into his arms with his fishing pole, tackle box, net, and bait container. He turned on his heel and schlepped it all back to the Jeep, already planning on how he was going to head home and fillet them. He’d freeze two of the fillets, eat the other two for dinner tomorrow, and take the last two over to Senora Miguela’s with her bucket of shells. She would appreciate that, he thought.

 

As he stepped from the sand-dusted pathway onto the paved parking lot, his eyes caught sight of a familiar vehicle. A banged up, tan Toyota parked in between parallel lines. There was no license plate on the front of the car, but Cougar knew whose it was and grinned to himself as he quickly waylaid his plans to head home. Whistling tunelessly, he jammed his key in the lock and opened the passenger door to his truck. The pole, net, and tackle box were all neatly stored in back, and he carefully positioned his bait and cooler in shady spots so that neither would wither in the brilliance of the setting sun. Then he locked the truck back up once more and walked to the bar he had been in earlier that afternoon.

 

The waitress who had flirted with him earlier had been replaced, and the new girl was busy herding trays back and forth to different spots of the sizeable crowd. With a start, Cougar realized he knew the girl from his place of employment. She tended bar there part-time, mostly when people called in sick. Her name started with a ‘G.’ Mentally shrugging, Cougar walked on, almost bumping into another waitress as he went and giving a quick hello to the musicians setting up in the corner. He recognized a few of them as street performers and local men, faces he had seen before at the market.

 

Sidling up to the bar, Cougar slapped his hand down and called out, “Roque!”

 

The bartender jumped at hearing his name, turning around with a frown on his dark visage. When his eyes lit on Cougar, he grinned, and his face was transformed from something intimidating to charismatic. “Cougar!” the other man shouted. He walked over, ignoring the other customers who tried to grab his attention. “Shit, what are you doing here? Isn’t this about the time of day you pretend to go to work?”

 

Roque dropped a bar rag on the counter, absently wiping up a circle of condensation while Cougar laughed good-naturedly and shrugged his shoulders. “Day off.”

 

“From chasing tail?” It was an old joke between the two of them and the familiarity of the jibe had him chuckling once more, shaking his head. “I never take a day off from chasing tail, amigo,” Cougar drawled, sliding his eyes pointedly over the crowd, glibly playing into the joke, “But I do take a day off from pouring drinks.” He let himself smile slowly at a pretty senorita that made eye contact with him from underneath a thick fringe of lashes.

 

The black man cackled, shaking his head wryly. “You never change, man.”

 

“Neither do you,” Cougar responded, looking around at the small beachside bar in a new light, “So this is where you went when you quit?”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, the other man replied, “Nah, I bought this place off the last owner. Turning a nice little profit here, Cougar. It’s better than being somebody else’s bitch.” At that, Cougar was forced to agree, albeit silently. Out loud he congratulated his friend and bought the other man a shot of Mezcal in celebration.

 

“It’s a nice little place,” Cougar told him after they’d downed their shots.

 

“Yeah, it is,” Roque agreed. Then something on the other side of the bar caught his eye, and he turned slightly to survey a group of young men standing at the other side of the counter. A frown darkened his face once more. “I see trouble,” he murmured to himself and his face bloomed into a look of devious pleasure, “I hope I get to punch somebody tonight.” Something about that smile made Cougar cautious of his friend and one-time co-worker, William Roque. It was a dangerous look, one that hinted at a definite dark side to the other man’s psyche. He’d never actually seen Roque lose control—his temper was a cool, almost calculated menace most of the time—and he sincerely hoped that he never would.

 

When he’d met Roque, Cougar had just moved to Mazatlan on a whim approximately six months after his college graduation. He was living in a shack on the beach and still looking for work. Carlos had befriended an older man during that time frame and fed off of him on a few interspersed occasions. The man had introduced Cougar to a friend of his, and that man offered Cougar a job as a bartender in his establishment once he figured out that not only was he competent and a quick learner, but that the American-born Latino was charming and drew customers in.

 

Roque was also a bartender there at the time, and the two of them, both Americans in a strange land, had bonded over nothing much more than a shared homeland.

 

William, or Roque as he preferred to be called, had been a soldier in the U.S. Army since high school. He had calmly revealed to Cougar that he’d been discharged for threatening to cut off his CO’s head, then actually making an aborted attempt to do so. When Carlos had given him a look of raised eyebrows, Roque had self-consciously shrugged while he waved around a paring knife in his right hand and said, “Fucker pissed me off.” After his discharge, Roque had moved around to a few different places in the States and then abruptly decided to try life down in Mexico. “Why the fuck not? Good weather, pretty senoritas, no therapists telling me I got anger problems. Sounded great to me.”

 

They had lost touch when Roque quit his job, but he had apparently done well for himself and created his own niche down in Mazatlan. Carlos was happy for him.

 

Cougar was lackadaisical friend at best, always having found it difficult to maintain strictly platonic relationships when his inner black hole was always trying to suck down other people’s energy. Better to keep his distance, to draw a line between friends and food. He was careful not to get too attached to other people, enjoying their presences for a few fleeting moments before he let them slip away. He was a stone in the river and they were the water that rushed around him. (Cougar had never stopped to consider that perhaps he was actually the water, inexorably flowing onward, impossible to catch or to keep.)

 

“Uh oh,” Roque intoned under his breath as one of the kids waved him over. Cougar actually did a double-take as he ascertained that yes, that was Jake, his hook-up from the night before, and yes, he was definitely at the nexus of the trouble that Roque sensed brewing. His friend left and had a short conversation with Jake that he could not hear over the din of noise. He appeared to be nodding at something the blonde haired boy said and then Roque was returning to Cougar’s end of the bar. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’m gonna have a fight on my hands,” the black man almost seemed to coo, his Brooklyn accent becoming more pronounced in his excitement though his expression remained as serious as ever. With a spring in his step, Roque sauntered off to the blender where he began measuring out and mixing the ingredients for a pina colada.

 

Tipping his straw Panama hat strategically low so that he could look around unobserved, Cougar let a careful eye linger on the college boys at the opposite end of the bar. They were trading some barbed banter by the looks of it, and chaos erupted as the boy in the pink shirt snapped. His arm drew back and lunged forward in a punch that while not very well-controlled, had a lot of momentum behind it. From the look on Jake’s face, he saw it too, but only had enough time to decide whether to take the blow on his face or his head.

 

He chose the head, and Cougar watched as his body seemed to ricochet in slow motion into the bar top.

 

The other boys scrambled out of the way, not sure of what to do. Should they get involved? Should they leave it to their friend?  The motion left extra room for the pink-shirted one to attack again and by then a crowd was thickening near them. From the corner of Cougar’s eye, he saw Roque set down the pitcher for the drink blender and make a move for something hidden under the bar, but Cougar was already up and moving, dodging around people and shoving where he needed to in order to reach the fight on the opposite side of the room. He could hear Roque yelling at the boys to stop fighting before he vaulted over the bar.

 

By that time, the two boys who had been standing by idly had joined in the fight. They were hauling Jake off of their friend, and the larger one was kicking the blond-haired man in the stomach. Cougar watched him keel over, but he didn’t have time to worry about that because in two seconds both boys were going to gang up on Jake again, and that could not be allowed to happen. Stepping into the fray, Cougar pinned the larger boy’s arms behind his back, stopping his forward motion. However, the kid had the advantage of size and leverage, and was able to break the Hispanic man’s grasp with a roll of his hulking shoulders and a harsh twist of his forearms.

 

He came around swinging, and Cougar dodged the punch, feeling the air move the strands of his hair that had fallen from his horse-tail, hearing the high-pitched whistle of movement as that fist barely missed its target.

 

Thinking fast and thinking only of ending the fight quickly, his hands reached for any available weapon, and they closed on one of the flimsy, bamboo-wood (probably fake) bar stools that littered the place. The bright, floral-patterned cushion sank underneath the pressure of his grip, and he took note of how light the stool was absently as he picked it up and swung it with all the force in his body.

 

It impacted the boy on his back and his head so forcefully that the wood cracked and split in several places. Two of the legs fell right off with jagged edges and a third was so damaged it barely hung on. His opponent cried out in pain and slumped to the ground, possibly unconscious, and Cougar dropped the remains of the stool on the ground. The pristine, flowered cushion cheerfully mocked the carnage that lay around it, and Cougar sneered in disgust at the fallen man-child before he turned around to check on Jake.

 

A quick glance proved what he had assumed: that Roque was handling the last fighter in his very special Roque-like way, and that Cougar need not be concerned with it.

 

Instead, he knelt next to the blond haired boy who, mostly in the fetal position on the floor, was a pitiful sight indeed. Jake looked up, his glasses askew on his nose. His voice, when it emerged, sounded slow and painful. “Hi, Cougar.” Mortification danced in his eyes, warring with the other cocktail of emotions there. He shook his head back and forth slowly, but returned the greeting with a cordial, “Jake,” to which the young man responded by rolling over and throwing up profusely, thankfully away from Cougar.

 

Wincing in sympathy, he waited until Jake’s stomach ceased to rebel and to his surprise Roque came over with a handful of bar napkins for the younger man to wipe his mouth with. The tourist grabbed them absently with a faint-sounding ‘thanks.’

 

“Ugh,” Jake groaned pathetically, managing to scoot away from his own vomit and sit on his butt with his head cradled in his hands.

 

Eyes darting between the two of them, Roque seemed to shake himself into action and gruffly began issuing orders. “Apparently you two know each other already. No time for a happy reunion. Somebody called la policia, Cougs.”

 

“Shit,” Cougar hissed under his breath and started to stand up.

 

“You better get him out of here,” the bar owner continued, jerking his chin towards the blond who was still sitting dazedly on the floor, “Otherwise he’s going to jail.”

 

“Yeah,” Cougar agreed tersely and he hooked his hands under the young man’s armpits, dragging him upright.

 

“Whoa, whoa,” Jake slurred and wavered, almost making Cougar topple under the weight of him, “Wha’s happ’nin’?”

 

“We are leaving,” he told the other, “Where are your friends?”

 

Jake blinked his eyes owlishly behind his crooked frames, staring at Cougar like the man had just declared ‘I am a purple platypus,’ not offering up anything helpful. “Jake!” Carlos barked, shaking the boy a little.

 

“No time for that,” Roque interrupted as he paced up again, “Somebody for sure called the cops. I can hear sirens. Just get him out of here, Cougar, unless you want his new best friends to be named Big Bubba and Rex. He’s just a stupid kid. Get him gone. Besides, you’ll get taken in too.”

 

“What about…?” Cougar trailed off, shifting Jake’s weight so that he had a better grip on the larger man.

 

“I’ll take care of the cops,” Roque stated. After a moment more, Cougar dipped his head in acknowledgement and tugged Jake towards the door. “Walk,” he demanded and Jake did so, placing one foot in front of the other in a drunken stagger that would have been entertaining under a different set of circumstances.

 

“Unh,” Jake moaned, and Cougar hurriedly shushed him, herding him out to his truck in the parking lot. He let the kid lean against the Jeep as he unlocked the passenger door and helped him awkwardly climb in with a one hand on his back and the other giving directional cues by pressing on the other man’s calf, hip, and knee. “There you go,” Cougar hushed as Jake sank down onto the seat with a sound of pain. In his haste, he slammed the door closed and heard Jake groan in sympathy, but there was no time to apologize. The sirens were coming closer as Cougar leapt into the driver’s seat and started his asthmatic car.

 

He pulled onto the road, freaking out just the tiniest bit at red and blue flashing lights a few blocks away. “Get down,” he hissed in a panic, and when Jake was too sluggish for his liking, shoved the boy’s head down with a hand on the back of his neck. He was tense as he stopped at the stoplight, keeping a hawk’s eye on the speedometer, and light pressure against Jake’s neck when he tried to raise his head.

 

“Stay,” Cougar ordered sharply, and Jake let out a sound like an indignant sniff. Then the fight seemed to drain out of him, leaving the boy’s head limp on his thigh. The light turned green and he eased off the brake in favor of a touch of gas. Left foot on the clutch, he shifted to second gear. The cop cars whizzed by and Cougar’s breath drained in relief when they did not so much as glance in his direction in their recklessness. He drove on, maintaining a cautious speed, and Jake sighed.

 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Cougar warned.

 

Blonde hair made a funny, whisper-scratch noise on his shorts as Jake nodded. He was silent for a minute, then he queried, “Hey, Cougar?”

 

“What?” he ground out between tight lips.

 

“You have a really pretty penis.”

 

“…Thanks.” His eyes shifted sideways, not sure how to take such a remark, but Jake seemed content to let the subject die there and for that he was grateful.

 

Cougar headed to his apartment mostly because he didn’t know if Jake had first aid supplies at his rented bungalow. He didn’t even know if he needed first aid supplies at this point, but he had a feeling that the younger man was concussed. He might need his ribs bandaged, but Cougar couldn’t be sure without feeling for fractures first. Regardless, Jake was going to have a hell of a bump on his head and a nice collection of bruises to admire tomorrow.

 

The ride was short but mostly silently. Eerily so, and Cougar prodded himself to speak if only to keep Jake from succumbing to unconsciousness. “Who was that guy?” was the first thing he could think to ask.

 

“What guy?” Jake was confused. That plus the vomiting was a definite sign of concussion.

 

“With the pink shirt,” Cougar added, hoping it would jog Jake’s memory.

 

“No clue,” Jake mumbled, shifting as if in discomfort.

 

“Maybe you should sit up,” the Hispanic man suggested, but the young man in his lap just shrugged him off. “Hurts,” he stated, and Cougar took that as a sign to mean that he hurt no matter if he was sitting up or lying down. He found himself smoothing his fingers over the man’s hairline, ostensibly feeling for bumps, unwilling to admit that he just felt bad for Jake and wanted to provide him with a little comfort. “So why were you fighting?” Cougar questioned, attempting to distract Jake.

 

“’Cause he’s a dick,” Jake responded like it should have been obvious from the get-go.

 

Flicking his eyes heavenward for a moment, Cougar pulled into his parking space and turned the truck off. It was full dark now, and for a minute they sat in silence as Cougar planned out the best way to get Jake inside. There was really no choice though, he would have to walk on his own two feet, or at least stagger. The building was without an elevator and it would be virtually impossible for Cougar to carry a man of Jake’s stature up two flights of stairs. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d be lucky if he made it up one.

 

“How did I get sucked into this?” Cougar hissed under his breath, popped the car door open and said to Jake, “You must sit up now. We’re here.”

 

“Where?” A blond head raised itself up as Jake tried to place his surroundings, leaning awkwardly against the passenger side door.

 

“My place,” the other man replied tersely, sliding out of the truck and coming around the other side. The door opened with a resounding squeal and Jake winced. “Sorry,” Cougar apologized; even though it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about the squealing joint at the time. It’s not like he and the car door conspired about this earlier. It just happened and Cougar was getting cranky because all he’d wanted to do tonight was fillet some fish, not play doctor with yesterday’s fuck. But his hands were gentle when he helped Jake out of the car, slinging an arm over his shoulders and tucking his hands around the tall man’s trim waist, leading him up the staircase slowly and patiently, pausing when it seemed like Jake needed a moment to catch his bearings before moving on.

 

They collapsed on the couch in Cougar’s apartment almost as one unit. Jake groaned and Cougar stretched, taking a moment to appreciate not being a pack-mule because if he had to walk around all day long hauling things that weighed as much as the kid did, he would go insane. He’d be the world’s first homicidal donkey. When he got up, it was with much trepidation, knowing that now he needed to assess the status of his unwanted guest’s injuries. First he asked Jake, “How do you feel? Any nausea, dizziness, blurred vision? Head pain?”

 

“I’m not nauseous anymore,” Jake said, “But my head’s killing me and I’m super tired.”

 

“Anything else hurt?” Cougar replied.

 

“My stomach.”

 

“Stabbing pains? Short of breath?”

 

“Just…achy.”

 

Breathing a short sigh of relief, Cougar sent up a quick thank you to the heavens. It didn’t sound like Jake had fractured anything. He was just concussed. Grateful for that first aid class he’d taken in college, Carlos recalled to himself that you should ice the concussed area and take Acetaminophen. “I’ll be right back,” he reassured his guest, “Don’t fall asleep.” For some reason, he remembered hearing that sleeping with a concussion was bad, that you should wake up every few hours as to prevent a coma. He couldn’t recall whether that was from his college course or from a movie, but he was pretty sure the advice made sense.

 

Grabbing the Tylenol out of the bathroom and the ice pack from the kitchen, Cougar shortly returned to the couch where he pressed one to Jake’s head and set the other on the coffee table. Jake whined and tried to pull away from the ice pack, but Carlos growled low in his throat and said, “Leave it.”

 

The other man huffed. “Okay,” Jake begrudgingly agreed, reaching up a hand to hold it in place as Cougar turned on his heel and retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge. He marched back into the living room a second later, holding it in front of him like a bomb extended at arm’s length. Jake took it with a short laugh as he eyed the dark-skinned man’s posture and waited until he shook out two pills from the bottle, which Cougar then carefully placed in Jake’s hand. They went down easily, and Jake sank into the fluffy couch with a sigh, repositioning the ice pack on his head, curling his legs up on the cushion next to him.

 

It almost made Cougar feel superfluous, the way Jake had so easily dismissed him, and he shifted his weight back and forth, suddenly unsure of what he should be doing. “You, um, you can nap now if you want for a little while.” The sentence bumbled past his lips before he knew he was going to speak it.

 

Jake hummed, shifted a little more, seeming to settle into the couch. “Shit. I gotta text Faye and Nicki. Tell ‘em where I am.” He reached around and dug in his pockets, pulling out a smartphone. Then Jake stared at the screen, almost going cross-eyed with the effort it took to read the tiny buttons. “I can’t do this right now,” he grumped and shoved the phone at Cougar, “You do it.”

 

So after a moment of playing around with it, during which Cougar sat on his coffee table and tried to figure out how to call up the menu, he did.

 

After a moment of thought, he typed out a second message, not wanting the girls to get the wrong idea.

 

Then finally, one more, just in case.

 

            From: Jake To: Faye, Nicki (8:54 P.M)

            Jake is at my place. –Cougar

 

            From: Jake To: Faye, Nicki (8:57 P.M.)

            He got in a fight. I’m taking care of him. –C

 

            From: Jake To: Faye, Nicki (9:01 P.M.)

            Don’t worry. He’s fine. –C

 

Fifteen minutes later, Jake’s phone beeped and Cougar called up the new text messages.

 

            From: Nicki To: Jake (9:16 P.M.)

            OMGWTFBBFQ?! Take good care of him! :)

            Or I’ll cut your balls off and make you eat them. :D

 

            From: Faye To: Jake (9:17 P.M.)

            ROFLMFAO! He would! :D

            Have fun! ;)

 

\---

 

TBC…

 


	4. Book One: Parts Nine to Eleven

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Lots

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: YUP.

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Part Nine_

 

Jake slept like a child.

 

He kept his legs curled up on the couch with his arms close to his chest, clasped in a way that reminded the Hispanic man of Egyptian sarcophagi. Jake looked peaceful and his face was austerely handsome in repose. Without the animation of the younger man’s personality lurking behind every facial twitch, he almost looked like a statue; his bone structure was that good. Cougar had dragged out a small blanket from his bedroom, draping it over the injured young man before he surreptitiously took the ice pack off of Jake’s head to store it in the freezer once again. He didn’t stir and that made Cougar nervous, but he’d only been asleep for forty minutes. After using Jake’s phone to access the internet (great coverage, he’d have to ask what carrier the blond was with), Carlos had been able to ascertain that it was acceptable to let a concussed person sleep for three hours. Besides, forty minutes wasn’t long enough to fall too deeply asleep.

 

At least Carlos didn’t think it was. Maybe he should go on the internet again?

 

Shaking his head, he told himself to stop worrying so much. He was following the instructions, and so Jake would be just fine.

 

Cougar only made it to the two hour mark before he woke Jake up again, clasping his shoulder and squeezing slightly as he said, “Despierte. Jake, despierte.” He had to shake the boy’s shoulder to get his full attention, and then Jake rolled his eyes up at Cougar and groused, “What? I’m having sexy dreams, Cougar. Don’t mess with a man while he’s having sexy dreams.”

 

Biting his tongue on the urge to laugh, Cougar dipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Noted.”

 

“So…?”

 

Holding out the cooled ice pack, Cougar settled for an expressive hand gesture indicating that Jake should ‘take that and use it.’ With a sigh, Jake settled the ice pack back on his head.

 

When Cougar turned on his heel to go sit once more in the kitchen chair he’d dragged into the living room so that he could put his feet up on the coffee table, Jake interrupted him with a plaintive, “Cougar?”

 

“Si?” Carlos turned, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Can I watch T.V.?” he asked, nodding towards the ancient-looking television in the corner with a set of rabbit ears on top. Cougar shrugged and agreed, but said, “You know it’s all in Spanish, right?”

 

“’s fine. I just need something to do while I’m up.” Though it was hardly accurate to say ‘up’; more like reclined and possibly nodding off any second now. But Cougar still changed directions and fiddled with the rabbit ears until he got a clear picture, then sat back down to watch the Spanish late night show. The light from the television flicked on the wall, soft bluish tones that illuminated just enough to cast a shadow as he blocked the screen temporarily on his way back, an elongated silhouette of himself sliding across the wall and the other man’s pale visage.

 

The television mostly went unused by Carlos, who preferred to get his news from people and would rather be out doing something than ‘in’ rotting his brain. He hadn’t really picked up the T.V. for any other reason than to serve as a focal point in the living room. It was something to look at when he sat on the couch reading, a thing to glance up at, to take up space in his Spartan apartment. It represented normalcy to him, recalling the way his parents had taught themselves English by watching television, watching his favorite cartoons as a child, and when he got older and stopped enjoying the T.V. so much, watching his sisters watch their favorite shows and argue over the remote. The T.V. was mostly there for nostalgia’s sake, not some need to actually watch it.

 

Jake was watching through half-lidded eyes, smiling or chuckling every once in awhile as someone did something that amused only him. Cougar wondered if he even understood what they were saying. Finally, he gave into curiosity and asked, “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

 

Shrugging, the blonde replied cheerfully, “Not a clue. I can only catch like one word out of ten, but I’m not listening to them talk anymore. I’m writing my own subtitles. They’re probably way more entertaining than what they’re actually talking about.”

 

The two men subsided into silence once more, allowing the babble of enthusiastic Spanish from the television fill up the dead air space in the room.

 

Then Jake let out an explosive sigh and muttered to himself, “Can’t believe I got punched in the head. Who does that? Me, that’s who. God, I have the worst luck ever. Spending my vacation all concussed ‘n shit. That’s fucked up.”

 

Cougar chuckled and murmured, “You should not have antagonized that other boy so much.”

 

“Yeah, well, he was being a dick,” Jake shot back, “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, its giant penises walking around pretending to be people.”

 

Laughing softly, he replied, “Not even if they’re pretty?”

 

“God,” Jake groaned, rubbing his hands over his face and wincing when he touched something tender, “Did I really say that out loud?” His voice was muffled behind his hands, but Cougar heard it anyway.

 

“Yes,” he stated in a voice that was both merciless and mirthful. His lips twisted into a smug smirk. It made the other man groan once again, a louder, more pained sound that time, as though he was wordlessly chastising himself.

 

He wasn’t sure why he was teasing Jake about such a comment, especially when it was obvious he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. It wasn’t particularly nice to bring up another’s embarrassing moments, but something about having Jake up and speaking in a coherent fashion had him riding high on a wave of relief so intense that it bordered on euphoria, like when you inhaled the helium from a balloon.

 

A second later Jake removed his hands from his face after he’d gotten his tell-tale blush under control and whipped off his glasses, inspecting them with a critical eye. “Shit,” he cursed.

 

Carlos cocked his head to the side, wondering what had the younger man so upset. They looked fine to him. Maybe a little bent, but that wasn’t too terrible. He figured it would be relatively easy to bend them back into place. So he asked, “que?” in hopes that Jake would explain.

 

The younger man looked up at Cougar, squinting his eyes automatically to try and focus without his glasses on. It was cute, though the Hispanic man would never actually say that out loud. “My glasses,” he waved them wildly in the air by one of the ear pieces, “They’re bent. Really bent.”

 

“So bend them back,” Cougar suggested aloud, but Jake seemed to shrug off the words automatically or perhaps he was caught up in some inner dialogue.

 

“I would, but, well…honestly, I’ve been meaning to get new ones for awhile now. I got these when I was in the tenth grade and haven’t been back to an optometrist since. The prescription’s probably all wrong now.” Jake shrugged and set them on the coffee table in front of Cougar’s bare feet. “It’ll have to wait until I get home, of course. Can’t do anything about it down here.”

 

A moment later, Jake piped up again. “Did you know that about seventy-five percent of people in the U.S. need some type of vision correction? Sixty-four percent of them wear glasses, and about eleven percent wear contacts.”

 

“Mm,” Cougar murmured, but it seemed that his participation wasn’t really required in this conversation. Jake went right on talking without a single pause.

 

“Forty-two percent of men wear glasses,” he continued, “And about half of the population of women do as well, and eighteen percent of them wear contacts. Only about fourteen percent of men do.”

 

Cougar chuckled and shifted his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “Where did you learn this?”

 

Jake looked up and stated matter-of-factly, “I read it in a pamphlet at the optometrist’s. Some things just stick in my head really well, mostly totally useless stuff like that.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Ten minutes later Jake began speaking again. “Cougar?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I have some more Tylenol yet?” He sounded so sad that something wavered in Carlos, tipping over from reluctant care-giver to genuine concern and sympathy.

 

Glancing at the clock, Cougar shook his head. “Not yet, but if you want to sleep some more, I will wake you when it’s time.”

 

“Okay,” Jake agreed and handed off the ice pack to Cougar, “Leave the T.V. on, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cougar agreed as he got up to put the cold pack away once again. By the time he got back, Jake had already dozed off. He left the television on in the background like he’d promised; white noise to comfort the blonde haired man as he slept, and grabbed the book he was reading from his bedroom where it lay atop the highboy with the rest of his flotsam and jetsam. He read seated in the kitchen chair, glancing up periodically to study the rise and fall of the other’s chest, and to keep track of the time. The hours crawled by until it was one-thirty in the morning.

 

Dog-earing the page he was on, Carlos set the book down on the table and called to Jake, “Wake up.” He nudged the other man with his foot, jostling him a little bit.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Time for more pain-killers,” Cougar said and shook out two more pills into his palm.

 

Things continued much in that fashion for some hours, until it was five in the morning and the early morning talk shows were playing on the television. Jake complained of getting a crick in his neck, and Cougar hesitantly led the boy into his room, keeping a proprietary hand on his elbow lest the weaving return.

 

“You may sleep here,” Carlos said as he pulled back the striped quilt his mother had given him. As far as some of her patterns went, it was rather sedate in blues, browns, tans, and the rusted-red of the New Mexico hills, and he suspected that on some level his mother had known her son would leave and made it with him in mind, well-aware that Cougar truly had no desire to shop for such an item himself. He would have gone out and found the cheapest thing at the first store he walked into and called it done no matter how ugly, feminine, or impractical it truly was.

 

“Mmkay,” Jake sighed as he crawled in, “Thanks, Cougar.”

 

“De nada.”

 

There were some shifting sounds as Jake settled in and Cougar picked up the discarded blanket he’d been using in the living room, intending to go and grab a few hours of sleep before he needed to wake Jake up again. As he turned to walk out of the room, Jake called out to him.

 

“Would you…would you cuddle with me?” His tone was hesitant and there was a fragility that underlined the question, an urgent, heartfelt plea that reached out and grabbed Carlos’ softer side, and he found himself acquiescing to the request. Setting the blanket down on the end of the bed, Cougar set an alarm and crawled in on the opposite side of the mattress. He normally slept right in the middle, so it felt odd to him, being cordoned off to such a small section of the bed.

 

Jake scooted closer until his rear touched Cougar’s hip under the blankets. Obliging the silent request, he rolled over and conformed his body to Jake’s backside, draping an arm over his waist. He knew his breath must be tickling the pale skin of Jake’s neck, but he didn’t complain and so Cougar didn’t move. He laid there tensely even as he felt the boy’s breathing slow and even out until he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. The soft, comforting rhythm of breaths lulled him to sleep whether he wanted it to or not. At last his body gave up the fight and he found himself pulled into tangled dreams of warmth, comfort, love, sorrow, and lust.

 

Though the sun shone brightly outside, the bedroom stayed dark and intimate, encouraging sleep. For hours there was nothing but the sounds of quiet, steady breathing and the occasional soft snore. The peace was shattered by the alarm clock rudely informing Cougar of the time in an insistent and voluminous tone. He tried to roll on his side to shut it off, having been startled awake, but he was pinned down. Settling for flailing his arm until the wretched beast died mid-wail, Cougar sank back onto the mattress, letting it cushion his spine, before he peeled open his eyes to find out why, exactly, he couldn’t move.

 

Eyes alighted on a familiar blond head, but it still didn’t click. He was more than half-asleep, exhausted from the night’s vigil, and for a moment Carlos just enjoyed the feeling of another person’s weight pressing into him, making him work a little harder for deep breaths.

 

Jake’s head was pillowed on his chest, tilted up a little bit so that his exhalations fanned across Cougar’s throat. He broke out in goosebumps upon realizing that, though whether it was from the slight breeze or due to the thought of it, he didn’t know. One arm was thrown over his chest, and the other was curled up, wedged between his side and Jake’s chest, long fingers clutching his white tee. He could feel the length of the other man’s leg pressed up against his, and another over his right leg, bent slightly so that it fit snugly in the vee between Cougar’s legs. In short, he was being well and truly cuddled, like an oversized stuffed animal.

 

Sleepily, Cougar tried to break away from the embrace, but Jake had other ideas. His hands tightened and he made a sleepy, displeased noise, his body shifting slightly so that it realigned with the Hispanic man’s form, tight against him from chest to tangled legs. It was during the course of this shift that Jake’s hips came into contact with Cougar and he realized that Jake was erect.

 

That wasn’t so unusual. He was a man, after all, and it was the morning. It was quite natural. What was abnormal was the way Jake sleepily pressed against his hip, seeking friction in his unconscious state, and how the action took Cougar from half-hard to full-fledged erection in moments as it raised his incubus in a hot flash that made his hands tighten, fisting the sheets in one hand and Jake’s humorous red shirt in the other. His breath came out in a low hiss when the blonde haired man did it again, rubbing against him subconsciously. He was probably having some interesting dreams, but Cougar couldn’t muse on that too much. His own mind was inundated with images, memories of yesterday’s early morning passion with Jake under him and around him mixing with ideas of what he could do now to rouse the blonde from sleep and entice him into another round of early morning entertainment.

 

It wasn’t right.

 

Jake was asleep, recovering from a head injury.

 

He shouldn’t…

 

Besides, he’d already fed off of Jake a mere twenty-four hours ago. If Cougar ever gave someone a repeat performance, they were always a few days, even a week, apart. It was safer that way. There was less risk of accidentally taking too much energy.

 

But then Jake moved in that incredibly distracting way and the incubus in him brushed aside all of those concerns and good intentions. Cougar was squirming downward on the mattress, the blanket bunching with the movement, before he was aware of the intent to do so, his mouth descending on Jake’s neck and kissing it in a soft, urgent caress designed to wake the other man.

 

“Jake,” he whispered, his voice rough with want. He remembered the way Jake had reacted to having his ear played with, and his mouth fluttered over to the most easily accessed earlobe, sucking it between his lips and backing off with a gentle bite.

 

“Mm?” Jake murmured questioningly, then “ _oh_ ,” as Cougar nibbled over the spot on his neck just underneath his ear, and found that it was especially sensitive. “Good morning,” he said, voice dropping low as Cougar dragged his tongue in a thick circle around his Adam’s apple.

 

His mouth cruised down even lower, finding Jake’s nipple through his t-shirt and nipping it sharply before he moved on. The young man gasped and his back arched a little. Dark hands shoved the cotton fabric up and it took Cougar a second to realize it was him, that he was doing this. He was just so hungry this morning and he was too weak to fight the ravening monster inside of him off. Urgent hands caressed Jake’s chest, eliciting whimpers of excitement from the man next to him.

 

Speaking of…

 

Placing his hands on Jake’s hips, he instructed the boy with a wordless shove to lie back. Jake complied even as he murmured, “What’cha doin’, Cougar?”

 

Not in the mood to talk, the half-incubus traced his tongue over the defined muscles in Jake’s abdomen, feeling light flow into him in fits and sparks as Jake surrendered to his own pleasure, to the pleasure that Cougar was offering him. He jumped and squeaked when the incubus speared his tongue inside of Jake’s navel, then flattened it as much as possible and ran it under the waistband of the black board shorts. Jake shuddered at the sensation and his head tipped back as an expression of rapture stole over his face. “Oh, shit,” he murmured, “That feels amazing.”

 

Smirking, Cougar finally chose to say, “You’re hard; I’m hungry.” It was as good an explanation as anything, not that the boy knew anything of Carlos’ incubus.

 

Deft fingers unknotted the laces at the top of the board shorts and Cougar shuffled back so he could tug the offending item of clothing off. He tossed them over his shoulder, hearing them fall to the floor with a muffled whumpf.

 

He took a moment to appreciate how utterly debauched the younger man looked at that moment, his bare face flushed with desire, tongue and teeth running over his bottom lip as he eyed Cougar with hot, heavy excitement in his eyes, his shirt rucked up on his chest, revealing his stomach and pectorals, his little nipples pink like his cheeks, and his dick standing proudly between his bare, wide-spread legs. It was more effective a come-hither than crooked fingers had ever been, and Cougar knelt between those open legs, lowering his hands to the body before him.

 

One hand curled around the stiffened penis, running over the length of silken steel experimentally. He recalled the way Jake had touched him with that little twisting motion at the top, and imitated the movement, pleased with the way Jake closed his eyes and opened his mouth to let a low moan escape. Then he took his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking his palm in long, wet strokes. Jake watched him with half-squinted eyes so that he could see clearly, breathy pants leaving his parted lips, betraying the fact that he enjoyed the performance.

 

His hands reached up, reached for Cougar, but the older man caught them in his dry hand and tugged them down so they were flush with Jake’s belly. Cougar shook his head sternly and purred, “Put them on the mattress. Keep them there.” He waited until Jake did as he bade, and then as a reward, he cupped the man’s sac in his free hand while he put his spit-slick hand back to the other’s dick.

 

Cougar’s palm glided smoothly up and down, remembering the little twist at the head that Jake liked so much, and he grinned to himself at the unabashed noises of enjoyment that poured out of Jake’s wide mouth with its plump, pink lips. With his other hand, he rolled Jake’s testes, lifting them up away from his body, then letting them tighten back into place. He repeated the motion until there was a fine tremor in Jake’s legs, and he was repeating, “Oh god, oh god, that’s so good. So, so good. Nngh, your hands are sinful, and…ugh, fuck,” and finally backed off with something like regret.

 

Shifting on the bed, kicking the quilt the rest of the way off, Cougar stretched out between the blonde’s outstretched legs, keeping his hand busy on Jake’s cock while he kissed up the inside of one thigh, across his balls, and down the other. He opened his mouth and blew across the flushed member. Jake shivered and gasped, his eyes wild as he looked down at Cougar. “Oh god, don’t stop,” he babbled, “Please go where I think this is going because, oh, you’re such a fucking cock-tease, Cougar. Finish it, finish it.”

 

So Cougar opened his mouth and slid the tip of Jake’s cock in it, using his hand to adjust the angle slightly so that he didn’t fear getting a crick in his neck, tracing the rim of the head all the way around with his tongue much to Jake’s very vocal delight. “Oh fuck! Yeah, just like that.” His hands were pressing so hard into the mattress that Cougar wouldn’t be surprised if they left a permanent indentation. He sucked hard, the action hollowing his cheeks out, and Jake cried out wordlessly, just an exultant sounding, “Ah!”

 

Lowering his head, Cougar flattened his tongue to provide a cushion for Jake’s cock and kept his lips wrapped around his teeth so he wouldn’t hurt the poor boy. Down he went until he reached his own knuckles, and he slurped around Jake’s penis. The younger man released a shocked sound and Carlos felt hands dive into his hair. He didn’t mind so much, finding the tug on his locks arousing, and his hips thrust reflexively into the mattress. “Shit, Cougar, you look so good with your lips around my cock. Fuck, I think I’m probably going to fantasize about this for years,” Jake panted.

 

Backing his mouth up and off, Cougar laved his tongue over the flushed tip as he chuckled, then ducked and lapped at the tight, swollen sac underneath, dragging his tongue all the way back up to the top. The fists around his hair tightened even more, further dislodging his pony tail, and Jake trembled with the effort not to thrust his hips into Cougar’s face. He groaned loudly when Cougar sucked his dick back into his mouth and set up a steady pace that had Jake soon thrashing his head back and forth on the pillow, sweat dotting his forehead as the tide of orgasm began to rise inside of him.

 

Cougar was in that feverish state that accompanied his incubus rising, his mind consumed with thoughts of ‘more’ and ‘heat’ and ‘delicious.’ He was absently rubbing his trapped cock against the mattress while he sucked on another man’s dick, the fingers of the hand not directing Jake’s penis into his mouth teasing the backs of Jake’s knees, the inside of his thighs, taking pleasure in how that increased his bed-partner’s excitement. “Oh, _oh_ ,” Jake moaned, “Oh, I’m gonna come. Jesus, _fuck_!” His body jerked and trembled, face pinching in the most exquisite of pains.

 

Pulling back ever so slightly, Cougar caught the spasmodic jets of semen on his tongue, rolling the taste in his mouth before swallowing it down like that would help increase the amount of the energy feeding, drinking it down at the same time Jake’s energy barreled inside him a short wave of flooding sunshine and heat, like everything good in the universe had been condensed down into one sightless, tasteless, scentless concoction. It was almost impossible to describe the pure rush of euphoria it produced, how it rendered Cougar helpless with satisfaction, like his every nerve ending was singing, every cell in his body suddenly dancing with joy.

 

While he reeled with intensity, Cougar reared up off the mattress onto his knees and tugged open his shorts. The button snapped and flew off somewhere, landing on the floor with a tiny whap, but he didn’t care. His hands were urgent as he pulled out his dick, so hard it hurt, leaking pre-come at the tip. Smearing it for lubrication, Carlos took himself into his hands, strokes firm and long the way he preferred, gathering the moisture that seeped from his slit and gliding it back down his length.

 

Jake watched Cougar get himself off with wide eyes as he recovered, licking his lips as he devoured the sight of the smaller Hispanic man rolling his testes in his other hand in an almost rough caress. Then he seemed to make a decision and scrambled up onto his knees, shuffling until he could reach Cougar. Wrapping an arm around the other man’s waist, feeling knuckles brush against his abdomen as Cougar stroked himself, Jake cupped his hand around Carlos’ and caught the man’s guttural moan with his lips.

 

Their hands moved as one up and down Cougar’s hard, aching cock and Jake nipped at the Hispanic man’s mouth with his own, catching the tortured pants and groans, and storing them away somewhere in his memory. Jake dipped his tongue into Cougar’s mouth and suddenly they were slipping, sliding over one another, the younger man licking the roof of Carlos’ mouth and drawing a sound very much like plaintive mewl from him. The hand on his cock tightened and Jake swiped his thumb over the slick, hot tip, tracing the slit with the pad of his finger, and Carlos jerked, coming fast and hard with a bitten-off moan.

 

His hand froze as he came, but Jake’s didn’t, coaxing the orgasm out of him persistently until Cougar broke away from the lips holding his hostage, hoarsely begging, “no more,” into the soft red cotton covering Jake’s shoulder.

 

Jake released his sensitive member as it began to soften, and Carlos uncurled his fingers from the base, slumping back until he was sitting with his legs folded under him. The solid presence of the other man’s arm around his back was comforting because right then, he was pretty sure that he needed the support lest he give into the jelly-like feeling snaking through his muscles in post-coital bliss. He might simply flop like an invertebrate and have to wiggle around like a worm for awhile until his spine re-solidified. The absurd thought made him chuckle and he looked up at Jake with the smile on his face still.

 

Jake smiled back at him and said, “Not that I’m complaining, because if I could I would totally wake up this way all the time…but as great as that was, I think I still need some Tylenol.” He laughed, and Carlos’ cheeks and ears burned with embarrassment. It was the first time in a very long time that someone had caught him off guard and called forth a blush from his swarthy skin. Maybe Jake realized that, maybe he just realized that Carlos was embarrassed at jumping him like some kind of starving animal. Either way, Jake caught his mouth in a slow, heady kiss, one that made Carlos cling to him with his fingers caught up in the red t-shirt as their tongues became reacquainted. When the blonde finally pulled his lips away, Cougar was panting with his mouth open, his embarrassment subsided in the wake of the tingling feeling of the dregs of lust slipping through him.

 

As he stared into those bright blue eyes with their thick fringe of gold-dusted lashes, Cougar had the sudden thought that he should go get that Tylenol now before he did anything else that was stupid.

 

\---

 

_Part Ten_

 

He didn’t get it. Cougar was all over the board, hot and cold, sweet and sexy one minute, and the next…the next he’s handing him Tylenol and a bottle of water like nothing happened, like he didn’t just blow his load all over Jake’s hand. He just…didn’t get it. There was something about the Hispanic man that was off, a place where the pieces just didn’t fit together.

 

There were pictures of his family on the walls, yet he lived alone in Mazatlan, a whole country away from any of them. He flirted expertly, fucked like he meant it; people who didn’t feel anything, didn’t care just _did not_ gently, lovingly take a person’s virginity. Yet he was quick to shake people off, to back away from anything remotely resembling a deeper connection. So that led Jake to conclude that there was just something he was missing. Maybe Cougar had commitment problems; maybe he was a closet addict; maybe he was freaked out about being bisexual. It could have been anything really and Jake was pretty sure that if he asked, he’d just get the brush-off.

 

So he didn’t.

 

He took the pills that Cougar offered him, gently felt around on his sore head—thankfully the lump there was already beginning to go down, probably thanks in part to icing it, and then gingerly picked his shorts up off the floor.

 

Cougar had already disappeared, and by the time Jake used the facilities right across the hall, he heard faint noises coming from the kitchen. Cougar had his back turned to Jake, and he stood in the doorway for a full minute not saying anything because he was busy taking in the domestic sight of the swarthy man bent over with his face peering into the open refrigerator. His hair was mussed from sleep and from Jake’s fingers and the ponytail had slipped lower, leaving the hair looser on one side than the other. His white t-shirt was wrinkled, as were his shorts, and they rode low on his hips, looking like a gentle suggestion would have them give up their purchase entirely on those sharp hip bones.

 

Before his mind could get carried away, Jake made himself give up that train of thought. Cougar was determined to pretend that nothing had happened, and he should at least try to respect that. Without giving himself the chance to change his mind, Jake cleared his throat. The action had the other man’s shoulders pulling back, his posture straightening as he was made aware of the other man in the room.

 

The fridge door shut with a muffled clunk and the soft sound of the rubber sealing the edges as Cougar turned and said, “I don’t have much to eat. Come on, we will go find some breakfast elsewhere.” He started walking to where his flip-flops had been kicked off by the door, then he paused and plucked at his shirt, seeming to remember his appearance. Jake thought it was incredibly endearing. “First I must change clothes.” He turned in the opposite direction and stalked back into the bedroom, slipping around Jake’s form leaning up against the door jamb.

 

Jake stayed where he was, letting the other man have his privacy. From inside the bedroom, Cougar called, “Do you want a clean shirt?”

 

“Sure, that’d be really great!” Jake shouted back. There was a beat of a pause and then Cougar said, “Okay, you’ll have to come back here and get it.” His voice had a thread of dry humor to it, and Jake was pretty sure that he was getting made fun of in some subtle, Cougar-like way. “Oh, ha ha,” he laughed and tried not to feel dumb, then he padded back into the room.

 

Cougar was already dressed in a pair of faded black jeans and scuffed brown cowboy boots, and he was pulling on a black wife-beater. He gestured to the open dresser drawer before Jake had even announced his presence. “I keep my tee-shirts in here. You seem to prefer those, and they will probably fit you best.”

 

“Thanks,” Jake murmured as he began attempting to neatly pull out the tees to check the size tags, except most of them seemed to be pretty old and what information had been printed on there was long lost to the swirling waters of the washing machine. He settled for unfolding a few and holding them up to see how they sized on him. Finally, Jake shucked his red t-shirt, looking down so hard that he completely failed to notice Cougar looking up at him, eyes lingering on his chest. However, Cougar was a sneaky fucker and he glanced away before Jake looked up and finished buttoning his old chambray shirt, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. Jake tugged the plain white tee over his head and down his torso. It fit, but it was tighter than he liked his shirts, hugging his chest close because it was a size too small. He caught a whiff of whatever detergent Cougar used and his mind changed from thinking he’d just keep his dirty t-shirt on to he really didn’t mind if the world ogled his moobs.

 

“Ready?” Cougar asked as he turned and Jensen nodded, running his fingers over his glasses nervously as he attempted to bend them back into place.

 

“Yeah, let’s go hunt down some breakfast,” Jake grinned and watched as Cougar straightened his hair. On the way out the door, the cowboy hat was plopped on his head; completing Jake’s Brokeback Mountain fantasy-lover and making him wonder if he’d look good in a cowboy hat too. Get a couple of horses, ride off into the sunset…

Jake put his flip-flops back on and Cougar locked the flimsy door behind them. It wasn’t a very good lock either. One hard hit and it would probably break, and then Carlos would get robbed. Not cool.

 

But Cougar didn’t seem too worried about crime and Jake asked him about that as they walked. Shrugging his shoulders, the older man replied, “We take care of our own around here. No one would ever walk into my apartment complex and steal my things because my neighbors would not let them. Either they would chase them off or call the police. Besides, it is not like I have much of any particular value in there.”

 

“Why not?” Jake asked curiously, pacing his steps so that he didn’t walk ahead of Cougar as they went. Mainly because Cougar was leading them to wherever they were going, but also because he wanted to be able to converse easily with the other man.

 

“My parents were poor when they crossed the border,” he began, “It wasn’t until later in my life that we were able to afford much. Even then my sisters always passed down their clothes from one to the other. That’s the kind of life my parents led here in Mexico, so that’s the way they taught us to behave. We never took our things for granted because there were always reminders of times when we did not have them. So when I came down here, I wanted to go back to a simpler life, because that’s the kind of place this is. Not only that, but I just can’t afford such luxuries on a bartender’s hourly wage.”

 

“How many sisters do you have?” Jake found himself asking.

 

Cougar smiled. “Four. Carmen, Elita, Benoite, and Jimena.”

 

“Wow, that’s a lot of girl-power in one house,” Jake chuckled and Cougar laughed in agreement.

 

“It is, though only Jimena is young enough to still live at home. My sisters Elita and Benoite are married, and Carmen has an apartment in Tucson. She is finishing her doctorate in medicine. But yes, when we were younger and the five of us all lived under one roof it was chaos.” He was still grinning, obviously lost in thought as he remembered the aforementioned chaos of living in a large family.

 

Chuckling, Jake responded, “Wow, I can only imagine. I mean, I had one sister and that was pretty crazy.”

 

“Had?”

 

“Ah, yeah,” Jake bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to let that slip out, but of course Cougar would catch it. Cougar seemed like he was very observant. “My sister died when I was sixteen. Car accident.”

 

The next look he got from Cougar was sympathetic. “Lo siento. It must have been hard for you.”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, “We were really close.”

 

“We’re here,” Cougar said and stepped inside a cool, shaded building with stucco walls and a little red-tiled awning over the door. It was obviously a restaurant of some type, though it appeared fairly low-key and Jake was pretty sure that it didn’t appear on any of the tourist maps. There were several cerveza signs and a short bar which was closed, a few tables, and a middle-aged woman perched on a stool near the front with a romance novel in her hands. She closed it and stood up with a smile, greeting Cougar familiarly and showing them to one of the tables out back on the patio. They had to walk past the door to the kitchen to get there, and the smells wafting out had Jake’s stomach growling.

 

The woman sat them down at a glass-topped wicker table, though the legs were some kind of dark, curling metal. The chairs were wicker to match the tabletop with the same metal legs and were surprisingly comfortable. She handed them two pieces of paper—menus—and proceeded to speak in Spanish too rapidly for Jake to follow. He just smiled whenever she beamed at him and raised his eyebrows at Cougar when she walked away. “What did she just say?”

 

Cougar started laughing. “You need to work on your Spanish, amigo. That is Pilar and she thinks you are _very_ cute. So cute, in fact, that she is bringing us some of her special recipe hot chocolate and fresh bolillos. Also, she said that I should keep you around for awhile. Then she pawned off the special of the day on you, citrus mahi mahi, so I hope you like fish.”

 

Blinking his eyes incredulously, Jake blurted out, “Wow, she got all that into those couple moments? Jeez, Pilar sure can talk.”

 

Cougar chuckled quietly as Pilar came bounding back with a tray carrying two glasses of water and two steaming mugs of Mexican hot chocolate, and a covered basket. She and Cougar exchanged another quick word, Jensen offered her another friendly smile, and then she swept away again with a saucy wink in Jake’s direction. Even though he was hiding his smirk in his water glass, Jake could still tell that Cougar was finding Pilar’s interest in him highly entertaining and glared at him balefully.

 

“Drink your cocoa,” the older man said with a smile, refusing to rise to the childish bait that Jake was leaving, “It’s good. Pilar has a secret recipe. Not even I can get it out of her.” As though to demonstrate, Cougar picked up the mug and sipped at the warm beverage, his eyes closing to savor the taste. Jake sniffed at it doubtfully. It smelled sweet but not like Swiss Miss did. This smelled like the real deal but there was other stuff in it too. Taking a cautious sip, Jake rolled the flavor around on his tongue and made a surprised noise as his eyes popped wide open. He swallowed it down and blurted out, “Oh my god, it’s like all my taste buds just had an orgasm!”

 

Cougar burst out laughing.

 

When he’d calmed himself, the Latino stated, “It’s good, right? I told you so. I would not steer you wrong, amigo.”

 

Jake nodded his head comically fast and shot back, “I will listen to your word like its law.”

 

Cougar chortled, finding himself flattered by the sentiment, even if it was meant only in jest. He pulled one of the rolls out of the basket and tore a large chunk off with his hands, setting it in his cocoa casually and letting it soak in the sweet drink. Jake cocked his head to the side not unlike a curious bird and questioned, “Why are you doing that?”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, the other man responded, “It tastes good.”

 

Just to test that theory, Jake mimicked the actions and then took a bite. It was a lot like eating biscotti. “Do you have chocolate for breakfast every day?” Jake asked wonderingly, “Because if so, I totally know where I’m moving.”

 

Chuckling, Cougar replied, “Not every day. I don’t usually keep it in the house myself, but if I go out for breakfast I usually have some.” He paused then continued with, “Is hot cocoa really all it takes?”

 

That time it was Jake’s turn to shrug. “First off, this is no ordinary hot cocoa. This is like…the king of cocoas. Second, why not? I mean, I was just joking, but honestly, once I graduate I don’t really have any plans. I suppose I’ll try to find a job in my field. I don’t really have any reason to stay in Cambridge though, and I don’t speak to my parents so there’s no need for me to go back to New Hampshire. If I wanted to pick up and move to another country, there’s no real reason I couldn’t.”

 

“You don’t speak to your parents?” Cougar asked with surprise coloring his tone.

 

Jake shook his head. “No way. My dad’s a drunk who likes to hit things and my mom’s a pill-popper. I think she started because it was the only way she could cope, but after my old man split she just kept right on. Then Jo died and I really had no reason to stick around anymore. I got into MIT and I never went back.” He took a long drink of water, pausing for a long time so that he wouldn’t have to see the look of sympathy cross Cougar’s face. Everybody gave him that pitying look when they figured out that he was alone, except nobody kept it in mind that Jake had chosen to be alone rather than be with the family the fates had given him.

 

Then he looked up and all he saw on Cougar’s face was calm acceptance. Maybe there was some sorrow there for a boy who’d had to go through those things, make those tough decisions, but he didn’t see pity which was refreshing. All the older man said was, “Then Mazatlan is a great city to move to. However, you’ll have to brush up on your Spanish. Right now, I think you’d have trouble if you wanted to live like a native.”

 

They kept the conversation light for the rest of the meal by silent, mutual agreement. Pilar came out a few more times to drop off their meals and collect dirty dishes, exchanging flirtatious smiles with both Cougar and Jake each time. It made Jake flustered and Cougar amused, and by the time they’d left the middle-aged widow had slipped Jake her phone number. Cougar laughed uproariously when they left and began walking to the college students’ rental property.

 

Jake opened the gate and Cougar walked with him as far as the front stoop, where he stopped and slid his hands in his back pockets. “Well, amigo, I suppose I should say good luck to you for the rest of your vacation. I think you shall need it.”

 

Teetering back and forth from foot to foot, Jake nodded and bit his lip. As Cougar was turning away, he said, “Hey, Cougar!”

 

The Latino turned around with an eyebrow raised under the brim of his hat.

 

“You paid for breakfast, let me crash at your place, and gave up a night to help me when I was all fucked up. So…how about I buy you dinner or something tonight?” He had to remind himself not to chew on his lips because that was a dead giveaway that he was nervous, and when he moved to put his hands in his front pockets, Jake stopped himself and settled for wiping them on his shorts, making them go limp at his sides again.

 

He watched Cougar freeze and stand completely still for a moment with his head tipped to the side ever so slightly. Then he said, “I work an early shift tonight, but I will be off by midnight. Perhaps we could make it a drink? But not at the club. Some place quieter.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Jake nodded his head and resisted the urge to smile goofily. He wasn’t sure if he’d just asked Cougar out on a date or not, but if it turned out he had, it was his first successful ‘asking a guy out’ in his life to date. “Should I…meet you there before you clock out?”

 

Cougar hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. That would be the most convenient, I think.”

 

“Okay then.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Well, I’ll…uh…see you later,” Jake replied, feeling awkward.

 

“Yes. Adios, Jake,” Cougar said and turned away with a small smile on his lips.

 

Jake walked into the house, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. There was no one in the main room at the moment, so there was no one there to witness him doing a little victory dance of joy. There was also no one there to witness the look on his face when he realized that he’d left his shirt at Cougar’s apartment. “Jesus, I’m like the girl that forgets her underwear.”

 

\---

 

_Part Eleven_

 

Why did he say yes? Cougar kept asking himself as day faded to evening and he put aside his cowboy best in favor of something more modern. He didn’t understand. He never said yes. He demurred, he deflected, he disappeared; he never, ever said yes.

 

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t a date. That at the restaurant they had both just been acting as friends and it was just a friendly after-work drink. He didn’t stop to think that by accepting Jake’s invitation that he had given up another night without a good feeding for the incubus in him. Certainly, that morning’s activities had helped, but it didn’t come close to a real feeding. That was…that was like a few cups of coffee on an empty stomach. It gave you enough energy to get through the day but it didn’t take the place of eating real solid food. The one benefit was that he’d actually eaten well that day. Years of experience had taught Cougar that when one hunger was well-fed, the other lay dormant for awhile.  

 

After he’d dropped Jake off at his rental property, Cougar had played catch-up around the apartment, including filleting his fish (thankfully they’d been properly preserved before the whole concussion fiasco), visiting Senora Miguela to return her bucket, plastic tamale container, and the fillets he’d cut for her, and even stopping at the market to restock his empty pantry.

 

As he pulled on his clothes for the night—the tight black jeans and the blue v-neck shirt; he kept the hat and the boots, added his watch—Cougar found himself grinning as he recalled Jake’s reaction to the champurrado that Pilar made them, and as he slipped on his favorite ring—a grinning skull—thinking about Jake’s reaction to Pilar’s flirtations made him chuckle aloud. It was a good thing he hadn’t told Jake all of what Pilar suggested.

 

Homosexuality was not a widely encouraged or explored idea in Mexican culture. It clashed with the machismo that pervaded the societies there and was generally not accepted. That was not to say that there weren’t gay men in Mexico. There were plenty of them, about the same ratio as the United States probably. They just stayed on the down-low. Most of them had wives and families, and went their whole lives living publicly as heterosexual men. Cougar’s lackadaisical outlook towards his sexuality was unusual. He didn’t flaunt it, but neither was he one to hide things. He didn’t go out of his way to prove his masculinity even though some people were well-aware that Cougar sometimes took men as lovers, therefore making it more logical that he’d want to prove that fucking men made no impact whatsoever on his manliness; Cougar just didn’t care enough what other people thought of his habits.

 

Pilar knew about the men. She was just intuitive like that or maybe it was that she was a bit on the adventurous side in the bedroom as well. Perhaps like called to like. She took one look at Jake when he walked through the door with him and gave Cougar a sly look. Later on while she was sweeping away their plates, she had suggested they have a threesome. For a moment, Cougar was infinitely glad that Jake’s Spanish wasn’t great, because the kid probably would have shot water out of his nose or something.

 

Pilar was very handsome at forty-one with hardly any wrinkles except the crows feet around her eyes, her hair was still long and dark, a tumble of curls that she pulled back while she worked. She still had perky tits and a nice ass, curves in all the right places. If Jake had been any other kind of guy, Cougar would have actually posed the question to him. Except he was fairly certain it would just embarrass Jake and make him more prone to giving Pilar those nervous smiles, so he held his tongue and respectfully declined. She had clucked her tongue and murmured, ‘Shame. He’s shy, like a virgin. We could have had fun with him.’ Then she had smiled wickedly and left them out on the patio by themselves.

 

Absently, Cougar picked up Jake’s t-shirt from the end of the bed and brought it to his nose, sniffing delicately. It didn’t smell dirty. In fact, it smelled a lot like whatever deodorant Jake used—probably something with ‘rain’ in the name—and the beach. There was the faintest odor of sweat, but it wasn’t…malodorous sweat. It was like clean sweat. The kind of sweat you get from having really good sex. After a moment of debate, Cougar tossed it into his dirty laundry basket and told himself that he’d wash it and return it to Jake tomorrow. There wasn’t enough time before he met Jake after work.

 

Which brought him back to ‘why did I do that?’

 

It hit him then that he actually liked Jake. At least a little bit, enough that he’d agreed to hanging out on a scheduled outing. Up until that point, all of their meetings had been pure coincidence, convenience. He’d slept with Jake the first time because he needed to feed; he took care of him after his fight because he was the one that was there, and it was the right thing to do. This was different.

 

This was a deliberate choice to bask in Jake’s funny and insightful presence. As friends. Of course. He wasn’t…he couldn’t offer anything beyond that. His incubus would not allow him to be faithful and Cougar was raised in the firm belief that when you committed to someone, you _committed_ to them. Adultery was not only a sin, but also incredibly wrong on a moral level. It showed that you didn’t care for or respect your significant other as much as you claimed to.

 

He could be friends with Jake though, and offer him platonic companionship at the very least while he was in Mexico.

 

Under no circumstances should he allow himself to feed on Jake again. He might begin to show signs of fatigue or illness, though he hadn’t so far. Still, better to be safe than dead.

 

Cougar walked the short distance to work, clocking in and greeting the other bartender. That early in the night there was just the two of them working. The club offered a special designed to get touristas in earlier during the course of the night. Twenty dollars all you can drink beer and rails until midnight. The customers paid at the door, received a wristband, and until midnight they essentially drank for free unless they ordered something not covered under the special. It was a good set-up and helped get people in earlier, which was hard to do because the clubs were open until four in the morning. The kids didn’t have to leave their hotel rooms until midnight if they didn’t want to.

 

That night Cougar was only covering the four hours that the special was in place, from eight o’ clock to midnight. He flirted extra hard with the people who came in, both men and women, so that he could take minute amounts of energy from them, more than he normally would. Compared to a normal night at the club though, it was slow. Business never really picked up until around eleven, despite all the gimmicks they had in place.

 

The hours dragged by.

 

At one point Cougar was fairly certain he saw Jake’s friend, Nicki, at the other end of the bar, but she disappeared quickly before he could stop and say hello, twining her arm around a young man with short, dark hair and a tan. He hoped Faye had the good sense to stay near her friend and keep an eye on the stranger, but then he didn’t really think that Nicki was the type to hang around someone whose character she didn’t trust.

 

Close to midnight, Jake bounced up to the bar, bopping his head to the cheerful pop-techno blaring over the speakers. He looked better, having slept away the last of his concussion through the day and taken a shower. He was wearing a short-sleeved plaid shirt that would have closed with a row of buttons, but instead it hung open over a gray t-shirt that read ‘sick sad world’ and had an eyeball on it. Cougar wasn’t sure what it meant, but he was inclined to agree.

 

Jake waved cheerfully when he saw Cougar, and the Hispanic man held up a finger, signaling that he’d need another minute. Jake nodded and purloined a bar stool as one of the other customers left, settling in to wait unobtrusively.

 

It was another twenty minutes before the new bartender showed up to take Cougar’s place, and by then he was looking around the club anxiously, irritated at the delay. When the man arrived, he apologized profusely, which Cougar simply shook his head at. He grabbed his share of the tips and stuffed the bills in his pocket as he left. “You may want to cut off the girl over there,” Cougar nodded, indicating a girl who was almost passed out on the bar, “She keeps ordering drinks, but I think she’s done.”

 

“Got it,” his co-worker replied, and Cougar slunk off so that he could clock out. He grabbed Jake by his collar as he left the back and headed for the exit.

 

“So what took so long?” Jake asked as they broke free of the crowd and stumbled onto the street.

 

“The guy who was taking over for me was late,” Cougar apologized, shrugging as though to say ‘what can you do?’

 

“Oh, man,” Jake groaned, “I hate it when they do that. The only thing that’s worse is people who do no call-no shows. Then you get stuck working a double unexpectedly and by the time you get home, you’re dragging ass.”

 

“Do you bartend?” Cougar asked as they headed away from the club.

 

Jake laughed. “Me? God, no. That would drive me nuts. Too much of a lifestyle for me. No, I wait tables part-time.”

 

“I see.”

 

Gradually, they found that they were leaving the touristy side of Mazatlan yet again, the streets becoming darker and quieter as Cougar led the way to an establishment that catered mostly to the locals. He heard the music before the place even came into sight, quick-plucked Spanish guitars, hand-pounded drums, the airy accompaniment of some kind of flute instead of a singer. The musicians sat out on the fenced in patio, which was lit up with tiki torches and cheerful strings of colored lanterns dangling from the arbor.

 

It registered to Cougar then that perhaps this was too romantic of a destination. Maybe he should have just kept on walking until he got to the first corner bar he came to, but then this was his favorite bar in Mazatlan, not for the beer but for the atmosphere, for the soft lighting on the patio and the musicians that played there. He liked how different, how completely opposite it was from his place of employment.

 

A soft babble of voices, happy and lighthearted both male and female, drifted through the fence as Cougar led the way inside. It was too late to turn away now.

 

\---

 

TBC…

 


	5. Book One: Parts Twelve to Fourteen

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Lots

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: You may have noticed that the header format has changed ever-so-slightly. Underneath the title of the story is “Book One: Paraiso.” That’s because this is going to end up being a really long story and in order to help my own brain organize things, I decided to bust it up into several sections or “books.” Never fear, each book will simply be published under the story title link, Incubo. I’m not making each one into its own story.

 

Also, I formatted this chapter a little differently, as you will see, but just to warn you, it jumps through time quite a bit, going back and forth between the aftermath of the date and the date itself. So keep that in mind as you’re reading that the date is being shown as flashbacks.

 

As usual, I hope you enjoy it.

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Part Twelve_

 

“Fucking _fuck_ ,” Jake groaned, his fingers clutching the bed sheets in a white-knuckled grip. He knew he’d remember the exact pattern of wrinkles in the material for the rest of his life, having a mind for things like that. His brain was working over-time at that moment, analyzing and memorizing every detail of the moment from the sweat beading around his hairline and the frantic rasp of his breath to the incredible pleasure/pain dichotomy originating from his ass and the callused fingers digging into his hips.

 

He rocked backwards without conscious volition, taking that thick, pretty dick in deeper, hissing at the burning ecstasy of it. He wasn’t quite relaxed enough yet, but god, he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when one of those hands released his hip and slid over the feverish, slick skin of his lower abdomen, tickling his pubic hairs and palming his cock in a warm, perfect grip.

 

Jake groaned so lowly that it came out as a bass growl, and he swallowed convulsively after to re-moisten his throat.

 

If he’d known sex with a guy felt so amazing, he’d have done it before this, though honestly, Jake had a niggling feeling, a slightly fanciful one at that, that it was just sex with Cougar that felt incredible. The man had a talent for fucking, that was for sure.

 

He felt Cougar withdraw slightly, his hand sliding to the top of Jake’s weeping length simultaneously, and Jake bit his lip, whimpering, and shifted forwards, chasing more of that touch. A second later he was torn between what he wanted as Cougar pushed his way back inside of Jake’s tight hole, making room for himself, and his hand glided down Jake’s turgid member until he reached the base of it. The blond haired man found himself flowing with the momentum of Cougar’s hand, rocking backwards with the slightest pressure of knuckles on the sensitive skin of his lower belly. He met the other man’s thrust with his own movement, their skin connecting, a sac that was not his own brushing up against his body.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Jake moaned out loud and wondered how they ended up here again.

 

To his knowledge, friends don’t let friends fuck them up the ass.

 

“Oh yeah,” he panted as Cougar repeated the same deliberate double-whammy to his senses, albeit with a little more force, and remembered just how the night had ended up back where he and Cougar always seemed to go.

 

The tavern—because that’s what it was, not like the little cantina they had breakfast at earlier that day—was humming with conversations in Spanish that Jake couldn’t understand, and there was a buzzing of energy that seemed to exude from the place despite the fact that it was not overly crowded, not like the clubs, and the cheerful music that played somewhere outside.

 

Cougar ordered them drinks from the bar and handed Jake one of the small laminated menu books.

 

Jake studied it with wide eyes, able only to make sense of words he knew, words like ‘burrito,’ ‘taco,’ and ‘enchilada.’ In the end, he handed it back to the other man with a sheepish grin. “You choose. What’s good?”

 

And Cougar grinned, his teeth a gleaming flash of white in an otherwise tan face, and said, “I forgot your Spanish isn’t good. Do you like ceviche? They have a really good appetizer here.”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Jake admitted, “I’ve never tried it.” He ran his hand through his hair and cupped the back of his neck. “I don’t think I even know what ceviche is.”

 

The other man leaned against the bar, propping a booted foot on one of the stools, and calmly held up two fingers to the bartender, an older man probably in his fifties with graying hair and a thick gray mustache. Two shot glasses promptly appeared in front of Cougar and were filled to the brim either with tequila or mezcal. Jake couldn’t tell the difference, but when Cougar slid one of the shots over to him in offering, he didn’t resist. In between his long fingers, Cougar held a small lime slice. “Ceviche,” he quickly explained, “is raw fish that’s been marinated in citrus. The acid cooks the fish and gives it a nice flavor.”

 

“I’ll try it,” Jake offered, but the look on his face must have expressed dubiousness as he took the offered lime from the man’s fingertips and picked up his shot glass in the other. “Salud,” Cougar raised his glass slightly as he toasted and Jake mimicked the motion. The alcohol went down smooth, but god, did it burn when it hit his stomach lining. His eyes watered behind his bent-back-into-place glasses, and he stuck the lime in between his lips, sucking hard to calm his tastebuds, which were all up in arms at the flavor. Maybe he’d better stick to pina coladas.

 

“Jesus,” Jake wheezed after, rubbing his chest where it seemed to be on fire, much to Cougar’s obvious amusement. Damn smirky bastard. “What…?”

 

“Mezcal,” he answered, “Lo siento. I’ll warn you next time.” His smile grew. “So you want to try the ceviche? If you don’t like it, chips and salsa come to the table also.” Something about the look on Cougar’s face challenged him and Jake felt his spine straighten as he shot back, “You order it, I’ll eat it.”

 

“Fighting words,” Cougar murmured with obvious humor. He turned to the bartender and said something in rapid-fire Spanish, then he grabbed his beer and tipped his hat-covered head to the side as he gazed at Jensen with those dark, inscrutable eyes. “Come on,” he said, “Let’s go sit outside.”

 

Cougar’s mouth blazed a hot trail down the back of his neck, the warm, wet trail of his tongue adding to the blazing inferno in Jake’s belly. The knot of pleasure at the base of his spine tightened, each of Cougar’s thrusts like a punctuation mark to his ecstasy.

 

Jake cried out, “Carlos!” when he felt teeth sink into the tender spot where his neck began to slope into his shoulder. The other man just sucked hard in response, his tongue lashing the skin, no doubt leaving an interesting mark to be found in the morning.

 

His hips jerked, their bodies colliding with an obscene slapping sound, and suddenly Cougar changed the pace of his movements like a horse moving into a gallop, hard and fast, forcing the breath from Jake’s lungs before they were all the way full up with air. “Unh,” he grunted, fingers spasming in the sheets, eyes slamming shut of their own accord to better savor every individual sensation.

 

They took a table in the outdoor seating area, amidst the low light and lively music, and Jake was struck with wonder. Was this a date?

 

Stop obsessing, he told himself.

 

He settled into his chair a little more comfortably, sipping at his cerveza, eyes taking in the patio in a long, curious scan. When Jake refocused on the man he was with, it was to find Cougar watching him closely with a small, subconscious smile on his face. Jake decided he liked that look of absent contentment on Cougar’s features. Too often it looked like Cougar controlled himself, his expressions and words, very carefully, wielding them like weapons.

 

Jake smiled back at the dark-skinned man, and Cougar seemed to become aware that he was staring. His eyes darted away coyly and his tongue ran across his lower lip. Jake washed away the sudden urge to take that lip between his teeth with the taste of beer.

 

“So how do you like Mazatlan?” Cougar asked, breaking the heavy atmosphere between them.

 

The innocent question sparked Jake’s enthusiasm and he fairly lit up on the spot. “It’s great!” He leaned forwards, fingers tapping out a quick, staccato rhythm on the armrests. “Man, all the people and the sights, and the culture… I didn’t think I was going to like it this much,” he confessed in a stage-whisper, “I almost wish I didn’t have to go back home, but you know…school.”

 

Cougar chuckled. “You like the culture?” His fingers came up, tracing his own lip thoughtfully, and absently smoothing his neatly trimmed facial hair back in place. “That’s your favorite part?”

 

“Yeah!” Jake agreed, beaming. He waved a hand in an expressive gesture. “I know, I know, I should probably be enjoying getting wasted with my peers and partying until alcohol poisoning is just a hairs-breadth away, but that’s not really my thing, y’know?”

 

An indistinct sound of agreement forced its way past Cougar’s sealed lips and he let his head dip in acknowledgement as an expression of amusement stole across his face. Jake wanted to ask what was so funny, except then he didn’t have to because Cougar spoke again. “So then why did you come to Mazatlan for your break?”

 

At that, Jake shrugged his shoulders, sipped his beer, and replied, “I wanted to. It’s nice to be able to get out and see something different. Plus, it’s cool to actually be able to hang out with my friends. During the school year we’re all so busy that even though we live together, we hardly see each other.”

 

“I see. And how long will you be staying in our little slice of paradise?” The older man asked with a wicked grin.

 

Distracted for a moment by the look on Cougar’s face, Jake almost forgot to reply. “Oh, ah, two more days.”

 

The appetizer came then, a little Mexican girl balancing a huge serving tray in her hands. “Hola,” she said with a sweet smile and subtle fluttering of her dark eyelashes, “Me llamo Lucita. Sere su servidor esta noche. Como esta usted?”

 

“Muy bien. Y tu?” Cougar replied with a politely interested look on his face. Jake didn’t bother speaking, knowing that even though he got the jist of this conversation he should probably spare the girl his poor attempt at Spanish.

 

The server gave them both a look that Jake recognized as a version of the service-friendly smile that all wait staff eventually developed, carefully pasted on their faces no matter how they felt or what chaos was going on in the kitchen. “Bien, gracias.” Her hands had been busy the entire time, setting small individual appetizer plates in front of them and a serving dish filled with medium sized pieces of fish. A basket of chips and a dish of homemade salsa appeared as well. “Hay algo mas que puedo conseguir para usted?” she asked when she was done, clasping her tray in front of her politely and waiting with an expectant look.

 

“No,” Cougar replied, then, “Muchas gracias.”

 

The server bobbed her head and added, “Sus cenas estarán listas en un poco.” Then she took off, stopping at a few of the other tables on the patio to check up on the rest of her section, and Jake was left staring uncertainly at the ceviche. He looked up to find Cougar hiding a smile around the opening of his beer bottle and if Jake was a cat, the hair on his back would have been raised. Picking up his fork, he gamely (read: defiantly) stabbed a piece of fish and lifted it out from the serving bowl. It dripped marinade over his cute little red plate and before he could stop to question Cougar what was in it, he popped it in his mouth.

 

At first his tongue rebelled, the tastebuds overwhelmed with such an unusual flavor, but after a moment of slow, methodical (read: determined) chewing, Jake felt his eyebrows curve upwards. He swallowed and said to Cougar, “You know, that’s not bad. What’s in it?”

 

Cougar’s answering grin was intolerably smug.

 

Three things happened then, almost simultaneously. Jake swirled his index finger through the spilled marinade on his plate, Cougar opened his mouth to speak, and Jake stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked off the juice. Whatever Cougar was about to say was lost as he suddenly let out a rough sound, kind of a hacking gurgle, as he choked on air at the sight. Jensen fought the urge to do a victory chair-dance, which would actually just look a lot like wiggling. Okay, it was wiggling. Shut up, it was kind of like dancing.

 

He was so hard it hurt, and the evidence of his impending climax was running down his stiff rod. Cougar was gathering up those pearlescent beads of liquid and smearing them over his cock head, his palm taking over and pulling the fluid further down to smooth the gliding motions of his hand.

 

His body was screaming for release and he was just close to screaming. The expression ‘feels so good it hurts’ had never been more apt. His ass was going to be so sore in the morning from this brutally euphoric fucking, but at the moment Jake couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not with that tumescent length slipping back and forth inside of his passage, bringing with every movement a flood of sensation strong enough to obliterate reason and morality.

 

“So good…” he panted, though he hardly knew that he’d said it out loud.

 

Cougar kneaded Jake’s tensing back muscles with his free hand, arching his back so that he could watch himself sliding in and out of the dark puckered hole, rubbed that same soothing hand over a milky-pale butt cheek.

 

Jake felt him lean over his body again, mouthing at his ear. His limbs were shaking, trembling with the force of his need. He needed to come. He needed it more than he needed his next breath of air.

 

He was so close too, teetering on the edge of the abyss, and clearly Cougar knew it, knew he just needed a little extra push. Because the next moment he squeezed Jake’s cock almost too hard and growled in his ear, “come for me,” and _god_ , he did. He came with a loud, wordless cry, his body jerking and shuddering beneath the other man’s uncontrollably, coming, and coming. So much of the stuff that in some distant corner of his mind, he was kind of shocked, and Cougar was catching most of it in his hand.

 

His hips worked minimally, fucking Jake through his orgasm, drawing it out until he was a twitching mass of nerve endings, head pillowed on his forearms. When Jake let out a contented sigh, Cougar stopped and pulled out; sliding his free hand down the young man’s sweaty back. He pressed his lips almost chastely to the small of his back, just above his ass between those interesting little dimples.

 

Jake smiled into his forearms, and then groaned when he felt Cougar’s cum-slick fingers slide into his fluttering anus, and he knew, he just knew that this was far from over and that this night he was finally starting to see Cougar as he really was underneath all of the polish and reserve, and Jesus Christ, no wonder the man changed lovers more than clothes because Jake could easily become addicted to this kind of sex, this intense, wild union of flesh that was closer to animalistic rutting than it was to any polite word in any language.

 

\---

 

_Part Thirteen_

 

Jake licked the marinade off of his finger casually, eyes focused on Cougar from across the table, and Cougar found his throat convulsing, choking off his words and his breath in a harsh squeeze as want latched onto his loins and gave a quick tug. There was wicked humor in those sky blue eyes and it almost made Cougar tip his hat in acknowledgement of the younger man’s skill. He hadn’t thought that Jake could flirt, but it was clear from that moment that if Jake felt the need to he could play that game as well.

 

Carlos’ jeans suddenly felt a little snugger than they had previously.

 

Determined to ignore it—friends, only friends—he picked up his fork and lowered a piece of fish onto his plate. “Like I said,” Cougar replied, trying to force his mind back into neutral territory, “citrus, a little chili pepper, some garlic. I forget what else.”

 

“Mm,” Jake nodded and picked up another piece of the chilled, tangy fish onto his plate. A moment later it disappeared into his mouth, and he didn’t appear to take as much time letting it sit on his palate as he did with the last one.

 

Cougar decided to follow his example, and slouched in his chair a little more as both men were temporarily preoccupied with picking apart the appetizer.

 

The musicians playing that night weren’t the greatest, but they were probably happier than most of the musicians who considered themselves professionals in Mazatlan. It was a troupe of locals, all with day jobs, who got together and played their instruments for fun rather than profit. The multi-tonal reverberation of the twelve-string guitar set the melody as loose and relaxed, and someone was playing a large tribal drum, beating out a rhythm with their palms. It fit with Carlos’ current lassitude.

 

Jake broke the silence first, as Cougar was beginning to realize he always would. “So do you ever go back stateside or is this where your heart lies?” he joked.

 

Cougar smiled and lifted his shoulders in a Gallic shrug. “I visit my family sometimes, for important things. The last time I went back was for my father’s birthday. And I wouldn’t say my heart lies here. I like it, but…am I in love with it? Probably not. Such strong emotion has never been my forte.” He lazily pulled beer from the bottle into his mouth, his eyes momentarily distracted by or rather focused on a burnt-out bulb on the twinkling set of lights.

 

“Do you miss them?” Jake asked, his voice sounding wistful, and pulling Cougar’s attention away from the slight imperfection.

 

“Si,” he admitted, “But its better this way.” Watching as time had moved forward ceaselessly without him had been making him bitter and depressed, and though he loved his family sometimes bouncing his nieces and nephews on his knee made him long for things that couldn’t be. It had been turning what should have been pleasant times with his familia into a trial that must be endured. That was why after graduation Carlos had decided that a dramatic change was needed to pull himself out of that state.

 

But that wasn’t really something that he would tell a near-acquaintance. Instead he grinned and tried to make light of it. “It gives them a chance to miss me.”

 

The blonde’s lips curved in an answering grin, but there must have been a note of falseness about him because it didn’t reach those incredible eyes.

 

“So, two days, eh? That is not much time to truly see Mexico,” Cougar skillfully changed the subject.

 

Jake shrugged. “It is what it is,” the younger man said, “That beach house isn’t cheap and Spring Break doesn’t last forever. I actually have to go back to work a few days before the break’s over. I was only able to get off for a week, which is pretty amazing, all things considered.” At Cougar’s raised eyebrow, the talkative man continued, “They’re short-staffed right now because most of the servers are college students. I was lucky enough to have requested my time off before most of the requests came in, but my boss is severely unhappy. To top it off, he’s kind of a dick anyway, but he’s a little nicer to the girls. I had to do some serious ass-kissing to get my seven days.”

 

“I see,” Cougar murmured and picked up a chip, scooping up a generous portion of salsa. He was crunching away when Jake said, “Nah, you don’t. I mean, my boss is a _dick_. He’s all old-country machismo and shit, and you may not have noticed this but I am anything but that.”

 

“So what are you going to do in the time you have left here?” the Hispanic man asked.

 

Jake looked thoughtful for a minute and then stated, “I’ve got no idea. Any suggestions?” His wide, gamine smile gave Cougar an immediate list of suggestions, none of which were acceptable to utter in polite conversation. Thankfully, the waitress was coming with their entrees, stemming the flow of conversation into a mere trickle.

 

He should have known that they would end up back in his bed, all of that just-friends bullshit falling to the wayside under the coercive push of desire and need. Something about Jake Jensen was calling to him, be it the boy’s personality or perhaps his own need to make a connection with another person.

 

So there he was, caught in the eye of the storm with the incubus magic riding him, leaning back on his heels and watching his fingers disappear into Jake’s asshole, massaging him internally with his own spunk, and the thought of it was deviously arousing. Not that he wasn’t already positively slick with lubricant, about as stretched and relaxed as a man can be, because he was. Cougar just…couldn’t stop touching him, not even after the boy had come.

 

He hadn’t yet. Come, that is.

 

For some reason, he really wanted to take it slow that night, draw it out so that he was insensible by the time he finally let himself go. And he wanted to do it inside of the other man, feeling Jake clench around him in orgasm once more.

 

In this, he drew upon his patience and forced himself to wait for Jake’s recovery.

 

Granted, he could have used a touch of his hereditary gift and brought the boy back to full readiness—he was good at that and it didn’t take a lot of effort—but he disliked manipulating his bed-partners that way. It wasn’t fair because they didn’t know and hadn’t consented, and he felt it was a violation of their oblivious trust in him. Besides, sometimes it hurt, more commonly for the men, to have that highly sensitized flesh suddenly fill with blood again. Cougar was not and had never been a sadist, and he didn’t find it exciting or erotic at all to cause his partners discomfort.

 

In the meantime, he’d just play for awhile and keep himself hard, and listen to Jake’s musical whimpers as he stimulated his prostate.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Jake propped himself up just enough to glance over his shoulder, his face flushed, hair askew, and eyes glassy with pleasure.

 

“Yeah,” Jake said, “Yessss. God, that feels amazing.” His admittance was accompanied by a grin that held both embarrassment and mischief in equal amounts. “Keep it up and I’ll be ready to go again in no time.”

 

Cougar laughed and shifted on the mattress, climbing over Jake’s legs and settling at his side, digits still playing gently in that dark, warm cavern. He caught Jake’s mouth in a kiss, mouths open wide, tongues sliding against one another, and when he pulled away he sucked hard on that wiggling appendage. “I’m counting on it,” he purred, running his nose across the young man’s high cheekbone and kissing his sweaty temple. He licked the salt from his lips with a satisfied smile.

 

Then Jake said, “Oh, Jesus, Cougar, you didn’t come.” He was wide eyed and staring at Carlos’ still very erect cock. The Hispanic man laughed. “No,” he agreed gleefully.

 

“Why the fuck not?” Jake asked.

 

Shrugging his more slender shoulders, Cougar simply stated, “I wasn’t ready.” Then he smiled. “It’s okay, really. This is not a, ah, tit-for-tat situation. Trust me, I’m having fun.”

 

Cougar found himself grinning when the waitress left, his eyebrows arcing in challenge. “You may pick what you like,” he offered, “This is noodles and chorizo in chipotle sauce, and that is mole poblano—basically chicken in chocolate sauce. They make both dishes very well here.”

 

Again, the blond haired man gamely rose to the task, picking up his fork. First he reached over the table and stole a bite of the fideos secos, rolling the flavor on his tongue before he took a sip of beer to cleanse his palate. Then Jensen tried the dish in front of him. With a smile, he tapped the plate in front of himself, but waited to speak until he’d swallowed. “This is very good.”

 

“You like chocolate a lot, don’t you?” Cougar chuckled, and Jake flushed plain as day even in the low lighting of the citronella candle on the table and the twinkling outdoor lights. “I do,” he admitted, “The girls have to hide their PMS stashes, because I’m pretty notorious for midnight candy cravings, especially when I’m working on something.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Oh, schoolwork, or sometimes I fix people’s computers for them. It keeps my skills sharp and puts a little extra cash in my pocket.” The young man shoved another forkful of food in his mouth, groaned a little bit and asked, “Is there rum on this?”

 

“Si,” he responded, slowly working his way through his own meal.

 

“So good,” Jake moaned under his breath and Carlos did him the favor of pretending he hadn’t heard, though his mind immediately spun off in a few different directions, each more lascivious than the last.

 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, ingrained politeness forfeited in favor of satiating their appetites. However, as Jake’s eating began to slow, he started speaking again. “So uh, I left my shirt at your place.”

 

“I know,” Cougar replied after he finished chewing, glancing up and finding his companion frowning slightly, “I was going to wash it and return it to you tomorrow.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if that had been too presumptuous, if he should have just brought it with tonight.

 

“Nah,” Jake waved his hand, “Don’t bother. I appreciate the thought, but it’s not really necessary. If it’s alright with you, I can just grab it after we’re done here.” He didn’t seem upset, which relieved a little of Carlos’ tension.

 

“Okay,” he agreed calmly. A moment later Cougar found himself wondering aloud, “So where are Nicki and Faye tonight? I thought I saw Nicki at the club.”

 

Jake rolled his eyeballs but the smile on his face was fond. “Yeah, they’re both there. They made some new friends yesterday at the beach. You remember that time when I got punched in the head, right? Well, while I was doing that, they were flirting. Now they’ve got escorts for the next few days.”

 

“So…?”

 

“Well, I’ve got two choices: I can be the third wheel or find my own entertainments. I’m not really into three-wheelers, even when I was a little kid. You know how some kids go through that phase before they start riding a bike where they get one of those ugly, plastic big-wheel things? Not me. No. I like my number of tires even, thanks.” The young man paused in his ramble, smiling sheepishly at Cougar’s raised eyebrows. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, so I’ll probably be doing a lot of sight-seeing on my own now, which is okay I guess. I can see whatever I want that way.”

 

“That’s too bad,” Cougar replied. He finished up the last of his beer in one swallow and savored the taste before it was gone. Then he grinned at the younger man as a sudden moment of brilliance hit him. “Or you could have a new friend show you the city.”

 

“Friend?” Jake echoed, his voice terrifyingly neutral.

 

Nodding, he replied, “I hope you at least consider me a friend.” Cougar looked up, holding his breath, hardly daring to hope. Maybe he could do this after all. It was just two days of completely platonic sightseeing, then Jake would be going back to Massachusetts, which might as well have been another planet. Cougar could be a good friend for two days.

 

The beaming smile Jake gave him was answer enough.

 

Soft, wet sucking sounds filled the room as two mouths roiled together. Jake was breathing heavily through his nose and making urgent noises in the back of his throat, and Cougar wasn’t that surprised when the blond pulled away first and panted, “You could, you know, come inside me again. That would be…” Pausing, he shuddered and let out a whine when Cougar twisted his fingers with precision and rubbed the man’s prostate. A little breathier, Jake continued, “Great. That would be great. I am _so_ ready for that again.”

 

“Are you certain?” Carlos asked as he removed his sticky fingers, wiping them absently on a corner of the flat sheet bunched at the end of the bed.

 

“Yes,” Jake hissed as he sat up and hooked his hands around Carlos’ neck, bending down to nibble on his collarbones. He swirled his tongue in the deep grooves there and Cougar shivered, his head tipping back. Full, kiss-swollen lips marked a path up his neck, sucking hard over his pulse point, and making him shudder and groan. “Yes,” Jake repeated, his breath fanning out over Cougar’s thin lips. Then Jake was claiming his mouth and tipping him backwards until his back met the soft mattress. The larger man hovered over him and Cougar ran his hands up Jake’s back, then let his blunt nails have their way with the pale skin on the way down.

 

Groaning, the younger man ground his renewed erection into Cougar’s, their cocks finding each other, slick and pressurized between their bodies.

 

Placing his feet flat on the mattress raised his knees up a little, providing better leverage, and he spread his legs to get a little more friction. If Jake’s answering sound was any indication, he approved of the minute change.

 

Cougar broke the kiss, desperate for fresh air, pulling back just far enough to murmur lowly, “Like this; you want it like this?”

 

“Fuck yeah,” Jake panted and raised himself up on his knees, “I want to ride you like a pony.” His eyes locked on Cougar’s, the stare intense, and Cougar found himself hypnotized. What should have been a humorous statement just made his cock leap in excitement. Grasping his dick in his hand, he angled it away from his body, lining it up with that welcoming pucker, and Jake sank down on it slowly, eyes his pinched shut like he was trying to memorize the way every last inch of it felt.

 

Dinner concluded with a companionable air, and relaxed and well fed, the two men left the tavern together after a brief argument over who was going to catch the bill. In the end, Jake won because when Cougar got up to relieve himself in the place’s facilities, he sneakily replaced the other man’s money with his own. As they walked back to Cougar’s place, he was surprised to find Jake shoving a wad of bills at him, and after a moment he recognized a wrinkled bill with a torn-off corner as being one of his that he laid down at the restaurant.

 

Jake just gave him a smarmy look and Cougar pocketed his money again with a rueful shake of his head.

 

“Tricky,” he murmured, and Jake let out a nice-sounding chortle in response.

 

“Don’t tell anyone,” he teased, “Part of my skill lies in being underestimated.”

 

When they got back to Cougar’s apartment building, he walked in the always unlocked common door and led the way up the stairs, greeting those few neighbors still up at that time of night in the hall. His dark brown apartment door was unlocked and they stepped inside where Cougar stated, “I have sopapilla cheesecake. My neighbor likes to mother hen me.” He’d added when Jake had given him a questioning look. “Would you like some?” Carlos continued, flicking on the light switch to the ceiling fan and observing the blades as they began their lazy rotation.

 

“Sure,” Jake smiled, “That’d be great.” They walked into the kitchen together where Cougar pulled a sealed plastic container from the top of the microwave and two paper plates. Hovering uselessly, Jake leaned against the counter and observed as the Hispanic man selected two forks from a drawer and used one of them to transfer first one piece of the layered cake to a plate, then the other. Carlos handed him the plate with the fork he hadn’t touched and they dug in right there at the kitchen counter, standing like a bunch of ill-mannered idiots.

 

Jake didn’t give a shit. Neither did Cougar, who watched as Jake picked up his fork and used the side of it to cut off a corner of the sopapilla square, scooping it up into his mouth. The top of it crunched, the crust laden with cinnamon and baked-on honey, and the cream cheese filling made Jake close his eyes and moan obscenely.

 

Desperate for a distraction, Cougar put down his plate and stepped away, saying quickly, “I will go get your shirt.”

 

Blue eyes opened and suddenly Cougar’s boots were nailed to the floor as Jake licked traces of cinnamon from his lips. The room was suddenly charged with enough sexual energy that it made Cougar twitchy. If he’d been a cat, his tail would have been whipping back and forth as he remained locked in a staring match with the other man.

 

He didn’t know which of them moved first, but suddenly Cougar was being slammed into the edge of the counter top, his mouth fused with Jake’s, hunting out every last trace of sopapilla. Jake gripped his thighs and lifted, and Cougar was weightless for a minute until his ass met the counter, nearly landing on top of his discarded plate. His wallet chain slapped against the cabinet with a harsh clang.

 

His hat got knocked off as Jake’s fingers tangled in his ponytail, tugging him this way and that. The only clear thought Cougar had was ‘well, there goes that plan.’

 

“Bed,” he growled when they broke for air, eyes dark and hot.

 

Jake nodded fast and stepped back, Cougar flowing off the counter and into the space he’d made. They got sidetracked kissing again, moving in a stuttered journey towards the bedroom. Jake’s hands were everywhere, hungry and eager, and Cougar liked this side of him, the aggressive want he displayed. He got shoved up against the wall between the living room and the bedroom, and Jake stripped off his shirt, discarding the midnight blue fabric and ducking his head to lap at Carlos’ flat nipples. It sent sweet pricks of desire sliding through him, and he must have made some aborted movement because the next thing he knew, Jake had picked him up and Carlos had his legs wrapped around him, and they were thrusting their covered erections against each other to the tune of harsh breathing and dirty groans.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, torturing each other exquisitely, but finally Cougar knew he couldn’t take anymore, he had to do something otherwise they were going to come in their pants like over-eager teens. Placing one booted foot up against the wall he pushed off and propelled them both towards the open bedroom door.

 

Jake took the hint and put him down, and they stumbled into the room, impatiently ripping off each other’s clothes. With his hands on Jake’s bare chest, he shoved the other man onto the bed and crawled up after him, completely naked. His mouth and hands explored that territory once more, leaving a path of love bites down his chest toward his navel even as Jake responded in kind, his hands hot on Carlos’ skin, branding him or so it seemed.

 

The lust in the room crescendoed as Jake began to whimper, “please, please,” and Cougar was helpless but to give into that plea, lunging forward and finding the lube and condoms in his bedside table. “Turn over,” he said to his squirming young lover, and kissed him deeply before he moved, “Hands and knees.”

 

“Okay,” Jake acquiesced and rolled over fast, presenting himself. Cougar knew that he needed to be careful still, because this was only Jake’s second time regardless of his eagerness, and he used every trick in the book he knew to make Jake relax. He pulled apart the boy’s cheeks and revealed that little pucker, leaned forward to kiss the small of his back and those pale globes as his thumbs softly kneaded that tense ring of muscle. Cougar bit lightly and licked his way from one cheek to the other, stopping to tongue the heavy sac between those parted thighs. Then he worked his way up, sucking gently at Jake’s perineum and slowly circled around his asshole, checking to see how well the action was received.

 

Jake didn’t disappoint, rocking backwards with a soft, surprised sound. “Oh god,” he panted, “Is that your tongue?”

 

“Mm,” Cougar agreed with a grunt and kept licking there.

 

“That feels…” Jake keened and his toes curled, “That feels fucking amazing.” Reinforcing his words, his anus dilated ever so slightly under the sinful ministrations, showing a hint of the pink interior.

 

Cougar went for the kill and stabbed his tongue inside, wiggling it as best he could. Jake let loose a sound like a man in the most pleasurable of torments, and kicked his feet a little as he fought to understand and categorize this new sensation. “Nnnnghg,” he groaned and tried to muffle the sound in the bed sheets.

 

When he thought Jake had enough, Carlos reached for the lube.

 

By the time he was done and had slid into the young man, Cougar was just as turned on, just as insensible as Jake was. He was high on sex and desire and wanted nothing more than to stoke the flames hotter, to burn both he and Jake up in a lustful inferno. ‘Just friends’ be damned.

 

\---

 

_Part Fourteen_

 

Jake sank down on Cougar’s length once more with his eyes closed tightly, loving the way it slid inside him so easily and filled him up with that solid presence. He was so well-prepared from their previous love-making that any resistance his body might have offered was long gone. It was just the smooth glide of that silk-and-steel member coming back inside of him--‘back home’ he thought but didn’t say, recalling the emptiness he’d felt when Cougar had pulled out after he’d come before—until his body touched Cougar’s front, his balls snug up against the sensitive skin normally hidden underneath the erect cock in his ass.

 

His face split in a grin before he could stop himself and opened his eyes to find Cougar looking up at him with a warm expression in those dark eyes of his, making Jake think of things like chocolate syrup and dark caramel and warm, sticky honey, like all the different flecks of color in his irises.

 

Cougar was propped up on his elbows, and Jake loved the look of him like that. Beneath him, covered by him, inside of him. A caramel toned hand came up and stroked the length of his thigh up to his hip, sliding around to his back. There was gentle pressure there, a suggestion, a request, and Jake obliged, leaning down with his hands on either side of Cougar’s head.

 

Cougar’s kiss-swollen lips rubbed against his sensually, and Jake parted his own with a heartfelt groan. The other man drew out that moment of chaste contact, nibbling Jake’s lower lip and using his tongue to wet the fuller mouth until Jake’s lips felt like raw silk. The younger man was making low, urgent sounds in his throat, frustrated with the tease and yet enjoying every second of it. Then Cougar slanted his mouth under Jake and his tongue ventured forwards. Jake met it with his own, and they slid against each other in a moist caress; twining around each other, pushing and shoving, vying for space until the blond haired man submitted momentarily and allowed Cougar free reign to plunder his cavern of all its secrets.

 

Cougar thrust his pelvis up slightly at the same time he licked the roof of Jake’s mouth from back to front, and Jake made a surprised, higher-pitched moan, grinding back down automatically. Hands curved over his sharp hip bones and encouraged him with gentle tugs to move.

 

The rhythm wasn’t all that different from being taken on his hands and knees, but the penetration was shallower because of the angle Jake was forced to uphold in order to maintain contact with Cougar’s mouth. He levered his upper body higher, breaking the kiss with a wet, sucking noise, and used the new angle to roll his hips back with more force. Cougar responded by arching up and the stroke hit the spot inside of him that made him quiver and shout and see stars behind his eyelids. “Oh, _Carlos_ ,” Jake sighed his excitement into Cougar’s open mouth as they moved together, and opened his baby blues to watch the languorous pleasure darken the Hispanic man’s eyes.

 

As those shallow thrusts continued, stoking their arousal until Jake was once again panting and incoherent, he found that he wanted more, craved the intensity of deeper penetration. The position was new to him but that didn’t mean the concept was. He had been with girls like this, had them ride him to completion with his hands on their gently rounded hips, feeling the stretch and snap of muscles and ligaments as they rose up on their knees and drove themselves back down. He took his cue from them and sat up, his mouth dropping open as the change in position shifted that length inside of him.

 

Cougar made a guttural noise and his head dug back into the pillow, neck straining as it tipped back but still managing to keep his eyes locked on Jake.

 

Jake rose up on his knees slowly, carefully gauging how much of that cock was left inside of him. When he felt the plump head at the end of his passage, about to pop out, he lowered himself back down with a pleased hum, enjoying the sound that it forced out of Cougar as well. He repeated the motion a few more times until his body became used to the sensation and learned to gauge just how much his muscles could lunge before he needed to come back down. On one of Jake’s passes, he squeezed his innards just so he could listen to the choked off shout that shot out of Cougar. Once he thought he had a handle on the overall motion, Jake grinned wickedly and said, “God, this is great. Why didn’t we do this before?”

 

Cougar chuckled hoarsely and stroked the vee of his hips in a caress that made Jake shiver. “You did not say you wanted to.” Jake noticed that in his passion, Cougar’s words became more accented and he often stopped using contractions, like he had to think about his words. Idly, he wondered if Spanish had been Cougar’s first language, if he still thought in Spanish rather than English, or if his brain was a hodgepodge of words and sounds, no translation needed.

 

“I’m saying it now,” Jake responded as his scrotum smacked against the other man’s body as he came down a little harder than he’d intended, forcing a sharp noise of stimulation from his lips, somewhere between pleasure and pain.

 

Laughing, Cougar ran his callused fingertips over Jake’s flushed penis and made Jake arch his back into the tease, hoping for a firmer grip. “We can do whatever you like,” the Hispanic man reassured in his low purr, the ‘r’ rolling on his tongue like a marble in a bowl. His hand closed over Jake’s erection and squeezed, stilling his motions as the younger man hissed a ragged, “shit,” and bit his lower lip. He was distracted for a minute by the firm caress of a hand over his cock, frozen with his head tipped back and his tongue playing at the edge of his lips in concentration. Then he seemed to startle back into awareness, remembering the twitching presence in his ass (he couldn’t believe that Cougar hadn’t come yet; how fucking hot was that?) and picked up his rhythm.

 

The two of them worked together as one unit, Jake rising and falling, and Cougar shoving up to meet him while Jake kept time to the rhythm of Cougar’s hand on his dick. That was, until it all became too much, until the sweat was rolling off of them and the groans and grunts that filled the air got louder and louder, until Jake’s speech utterly deserted him and all he could think were abstract concepts like ‘more, full, perfect.’

 

…Until their bodies lost the rhythm and degraded into chaotic bouncing and hard upward jerks of hips, and then Cougar snapped up one last time, driving himself as deep as he could do, as hard as he could, and clenched his teeth as his body convulsed in a long awaited release, the condom catching his spunk as his world shattered again and again.

 

Something about that moment of seeing his lover (because that’s what Cougar was right now, no matter his commitment issues) lose control that way, his eyes rolling in the back of his head in rapture, forced Jake up over that hill he’d been stuck on and he felt his own orgasm rip through him, though hardly any fluid left him at all, his testes depleted by his earlier climaxes. Still he trembled and shook, synapses overloading with sensation, his tired body valiantly giving all that it could in two lazy dribbles of come running down his dick.

 

Then he collapsed with a soft cry, barely catching himself on his arms, and Cougar’s arms encircled him, pulling him the rest of the way down to rest his overworked body against the other man’s.

 

They lay there catching their breath, the sweat cooling on their bodies, until Cougar softened enough to slip out of him easily and then all Jake did was roll a little and press himself up against Cougar’s side wordlessly.

 

He was speechless. Absolutely speechless.

 

Thankfully Cougar didn’t seem much in the mood to talk at the time, and with the exception of the removal of the condom, he didn’t seem much in the mood to move either, and so with their arms around each other, coated in sweat and spunk and other things, they slipped into a light doze.

 

In that hazy place between waking and sleep, Jake wondered whether or not this was going to prompt Cougar to freak out and back out of his promise of spending time with him over the next two days. He hoped not. He rather liked the other man, and not just in bed though that was an area where they were definitely compatible.

 

He only needed to wait a few hours to find out and that was because when he dropped off into the land of Nod, he dropped hard, and ended up sleeping a good four hours.

 

Jake woke to the sight of Cougar’s worried gaze, mocha eyes boring into him from six inches away from his face. “Hey,” Jake greeted with a grin and started shifting in his pre-getting up ritual wiggle ‘n stretch. The relief in Cougar’s eyes made him pause with his back stretched out, looking for all the world like an oversized feline. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

 

Cougar shrugged and his face became shuttered, closed off. “Nothing. You are alright? You were asleep for a long time.” There was still a hint of worry in the other man’s voice, but Jake didn’t know what to make of it.

 

“It is like…really, really late, Cougs. This is the normal time for people to sleep,” he responded lightly and turned, putting his feet on the floor and sitting up, cocking a knee so that he was turned to face his dark skinned lover.

 

“Yes,” Carlos agreed, “But…are you feeling okay?”

 

Jake snorted. “You ask me that a lot, Cougar.” Grinning, he continued on, “But yes, I’m fine. I feel perfectly fine. Well…” he grimaced, “I could use a shower.” The dried semen was sticky and uncomfortable, pulling at his skin, and his butthole felt totally gross. Yeah, shower, definitely priority one.

 

“Are you a hypochondriac?” Jake asked idly as he stood up and stretched until his vertebrae popped and he felt the strain of reaching for the sky in his shoulders.

 

Cougar sat up on the other side of the bed and gave another one of those Gallic shrugs that could have meant anything in lieu of words as an answer. He was still watching Jake like the younger man was a puzzle he was trying to fit all the pieces into. Deciding to ignore the man’s odd behavior—he felt fine, in fact four straight hours of sleep was really good for him especially since his doctor had titrated him off of his medication, usually he woke up two of three times a night—he headed towards the bedroom door. “Can I get a towel?” he asked as Cougar stood up and followed him out.

 

“Si,” Cougar replied as he pulled a towel from the small linen closet which he handed to Jake at the doorway to the bathroom. He stayed on the carpet, hesitating, then told the scholar, “The water takes awhile to heat, so give it a minute. Oh, and the tiles get very slick because there is no fan. I usually leave the door open.”

 

“Okay,” Jake nodded and dropped the towel on top of the toilet. Cougar was still hovering. From the look of him, he could also have used a shower and Jake felt a little bad for stealing the bathroom from him. A thought occurred to him, a wicked thought that made him smirk and snigger to himself. “Do you want to join me?” he offered with what he hoped was a tempting look.

 

Cougar eyed him up appreciatively, glanced at the shower behind him, and then regretfully shook his head, taking a deliberate step back. “I would,” he admitted with a small smile, “But the shower is very small, so you go first and I’ll take the next one.” Jake gave a rueful shake of his head and sing-songed, “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Still, Cougar stepped back with a smile and disappeared back into the bedroom across the hall, and Jake closed the door only partway so that the steamy air would still be able to escape.

 

With great reluctance, he admitted that Cougar was right, and two men of their sizes would have a difficult time fitting in there comfortably. There just wasn’t enough room to maneuver and what Jake had secretly been planning on had required ample maneuverability. He turned on the water, grabbed a washcloth from where they were piled on a shelf above the toilet, and stepped under the spray, letting out a tiny yelp as the cold water woke him up the rest of the way. Carlos was correct and by the time the water reached a satisfactory temperature, Jake was starting to get cold and was blessedly thankful for the warm water pushing the chill out of his skin.

 

He grabbed the soap and lathered up the washcloth, working until he was clean in places that usually never saw that amount of extended attention, stopping at various points to rinse off the washcloth and re-soap it. Finally, Jake tossed down the washcloth into the bottom of the tub and reached for the shampoo. The bottle, of course, was in Spanish, but he gauged the jelly-consistency of it, sniffed at the opening to determine the scent—something minty and clean, maybe tea tree—and shrugged before squeezing out a small amount. Personally, he was more of a Pert Plus 2-in-1 kind of guy. Less fuss. Then again, he didn’t have as much hair as Cougar did.

 

Long hair.

 

Thick, satiny hair that curled when the humidity rose.

 

He probably needed the girly products to keep it all nice.

 

Even though Jake had consciously protested the aforementioned girly products, he still grabbed the conditioner after he’d rinsed out the shampoo. He knew enough about girl products, having lived with quite a few over the years and occasionally being prone to forgetting that he was out of Pert, that if you only used the shampoo it left your hair looking pretty wack. So he rubbed in conditioner half-heartedly and then rinsed his head without waiting the recommended number of minutes.

 

As he rubbed his head dry a minute later, he wondered idly if it was going to leave his hair all soft and fluffy the way Faye’s baby shampoo did. Jake would never admit it on pain of death, but he kind of liked when his hair was all soft and fluffy, like duck down.

 

Jake left the bathroom and padded into the bedroom only to find that it was empty. Absently, he started collecting his clothes and putting them back on. When he had his shorts on, Cougar strolled in still naked and dirty, looking like a man who’d been thoroughly debauched, with a bag of carrot sticks in his hand. He sat on the bed and offered to share with a gesture, raising the bag up and shaking it a little with his eyebrow cocked. With a mental ‘why not,’ Jake fished out a few. As the first bite hit his stomach, he realized that he was really fucking hungry.

 

A minute later Cougar had herded him into the kitchen and was scrambling eggs, a bunch of vegetables, and some kind of meat (Jake thought it smelled like ham) in a pan and scooping it onto warmed tortillas. A sprinkle of cheese topped the mix and then he rolled up the burritos and handed the larger one to Jake. They didn’t speak until Jake was about halfway through his breakfast burrito and his hunger wasn’t quite so overwhelming.

 

Then Jake casually asked, “So are you still going to show me around town or was all that ‘friends’ talk just so I’d let you in my pants again?” He forced his voice to stay light and uncaring.

 

Cougar looked up from where he was seated, naked and tempting and so comfortable in his own skin that Jake was envious. He was chewing and when he was done, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and set down his burrito. “I’ll show you around,” he finally responded quietly, “It wasn’t just a ploy to get in your good graces. I don’t play games like that.”

 

The Hispanic man took a deep breath, making his chest rise and fall in a way that was very visible and intensely fascinating to Jake, watching as his stomach rose slightly with the motion as well. “One thing you must understand, Jake,” Cougar began, “Is that this…” he flicked a finger back and forth between the two of them. “This is not serious for me. I am not looking for such entanglements and I hope that you are not either.”

 

Jake was eyeing him up across the table, and finally all that happened was he smiled, a meager half-grin, and waved a hand dismissively. “We both know I’m going back to Massachusetts in a couple days,” Jake agreed, “I’m not looking for a long-distance thing, if that’s what you’re getting at. It’s not very practical. I’ve got two days left here, so let’s just…enjoy them and enjoy each other if you’re amenable to that idea.”

 

Picking up his burrito again, Cougar stated with a sad, answering grin, “I am amenable.”

 

“Good,” Jake said.

 

“Good,” Cougar agreed and then promptly bit into his breakfast.

 

It seemed that was all there was to say on the matter.

 

\---

 

TBC…

 


	6. Book One: Parts Fifteen to Seventeen

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Faye, mild flirting

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: It has been called to my attention that I have been sorely remiss in posting the translations to all the Spanish I’ve been using. From this point forward I promise to be more diligent about doing so in-chapter. But I’m not going to go back and re-translate everything because that would take forever. In addition, I’m not going to post translations of basic Spanish. Here is a short guide of Spanish words you should know:

 

Hola—hello

Si—yes

(Muchas) gracias—thank you (very much)

De nada—you’re welcome

Por favor—please

Lo siento—I’m sorry/sorry

Buenos dias—good morning

Buenas tardes/noches—good afternoon/night

Interesante—interesting

Mi familia—my family

Mi amigo—my friend

Cojones—balls

Dinero—money

Es un placer—it’s a pleasure

La policia—the police

Despierte—wake up

Que—what

Cerveza—beer

Adios—goodbye

Turistas—tourists

Salud—health/to health (when toasting)

Me llamo—my name is…

Como estas?—how are you? (informal)

Como esta usted?—how are you? (formal)

(Muy) bien—(very) good

Y tu?—and you?

Agua—water 

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

 

\---

 

_Part Fifteen_

 

After breakfast, Cougar took his shower and got dressed in a black t-shirt that had clearly seen many washings if the fact that it was gray was taken into account, and a pair of blue jeans. He wore boots again and the cowboy hat, and felt Jake’s eyes on him as he pulled it all on.

 

He’d been terrified when he had woken up nearly an hour before Jake, and the other man hadn’t stirred. Not when he had rolled out of bed to get a drink of water, nor when he had placed his hands on the mattress and bounced it a little to try and wake him, and not when he’d climbed back in and taken his pulse just to make sure he was okay. Never before had Cougar witnessed such a deep sleep and for fifty-two minutes he’d waited, feeling like his heart was in a vice and his worst nightmare, that he would unintentionally kill a bed-partner, was coming true.

 

Then Jake opened his eyes and Carlos breathed easy again.

 

Cougar could tell that Jake saw his worry, no matter how hard he’d tried to conceal it, and he didn’t understand it. Perversely, Carlos wanted to make him understand. For a brief second as he hovered there, half in bed and half out of it, watching Jake stride across the room in his birthday suit, he actually contemplated telling someone about himself. Then, calling himself ridiculous and stupid in two languages, he didn’t. What would he have said? ‘Yes, I’m half mythical creature, a demon called an incubus. No, no, only a female is called a succubus. Well, yes, it’s pretty much the same thing. Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ve been feeding on your energy like some kind of oversized leech. What’s that? No, please don’t call the mental institution, that’s not really necessary.’

 

He made himself focus on the fact that Jake was just fine and to take care of the practicalities, including getting some food in the younger man. The body required food to produce its fuel, the very energy that Carlos fed off of. Hopefully Jake would make a full recovery in no time, though Cougar really had no way to gauge this. He supposed that maybe a full incubus could do so. He didn’t really know; he’d never encountered one.

 

After he was dressed they walked the distance to Jake’s rental whereupon Cougar found himself subjected to a crash course in what it was like having roommates. Nicki and Faye were both already awake. They looked a little worse for wear, obviously nursing hangovers at the kitchen table in their pajamas and last night’s make-up. Nicole had a huge bottle of water in front of her and Faye was staunchly chewing on a piece of buttered toast like someone was holding a gun to her head. However, as Cougar and Jake entered the little abode, those looks of misery transformed into something gleeful and unholy. “Gird your loins,” Jake muttered under his breath but continued walking forwards.

 

“Morning, ladies,” Jake called to his roommates in what Cougar was sure was an unnecessarily loud voice. Nicki winced at the sound.

 

“Shhh,” she hissed and pillowed her head on her folded arms.

 

Faye, however, would not be so easily deterred. “Well, well, lookie here. Who’s doing the walk of shame now?” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows for effect. “Dost mine eyes deceive me or are those last night’s clothes?”

 

Jake scowled at her, and Nicki wordlessly pulled over her purse and felt around until she pulled out a twenty. Faye cackled as she pocketed the cash, and the redheaded girl groaned. “I gotta go back to bed,” Nicole muttered and got up, shambling back into the bedroom with her water clutched like a lifeline.

 

Cougar was trying not to smile at the pathetic picture the girls painted and instead followed Jake into his room. Just as he was about to disappear through the doorway, Faye called, “Morning, Cougar. Nice to see you again so bright and surly.”

 

Stifling his laughter, Cougar replied, “Buenos dias, Faye. Remember to drink plenty of agua.”

 

Jake let the door shut behind him with a bang. He was chuckling to himself as he did so. “What?” he asked at Cougar’s look, “It’s petty, but she deserves it. That is a girl who just made twenty bucks betting on my sex life.” Underneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Cougar rolled his eyes. Then he pulled Jake close with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck and kissed the corner of that mouth, teasing his tongue along the dip between the younger man’s lips as he pulled away with laughter on his face.

 

“I am sure you can find it in your heart to forgive her,” Carlos purred, his voice husky with the sudden heat coursing between them. It was too soon, he knew, since the last feeding, and the frightening moment earlier that morning was still too fresh in his mind. Still, a kiss could just be a kiss. It didn’t always have to lead into something else, and in that instant where Jake looked pouty and mischievous with a little smirk tugging one side of his mouth up, Carlos had wanted to kiss him.

 

There was freedom and pleasure in allowing himself to do so without restraint. Being able to let some of his boundaries drop with someone, anyone, was a luxury that Cougar did not often allow himself to have.

 

Striding further into the room, Cougar took a seat on the end of the bed where he and Jake had sex that first night and slouched forwards a bit with his forearms resting on his thighs. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jake touch his lips where he’d been abruptly and unceremoniously kissed. “You should get changed,” he gently prompted.

 

“Uh, oh, yeah,” Jake stuttered in agreement. Blue eyes looked at him bashfully as the blond haired man stuttered out, “Uh, do you want to, um, wait outside?” It seemed silly to Cougar that after he’d already seen, touched, and tasted every part of him that now Jake chose to get shy. Grinning lasciviously, he responded.

 

“No, I think I will stay right here.” He winked flirtatiously and had the pleasure of watching a blush darken Jake’s prominent cheekbones.

 

It was easy to be lighthearted now. Jake only had two days left in Mazatlan before he returned to Massachusetts, and with that knowledge, the time limit, came a certain freedom. Cougar didn’t have to worry so much about getting too close. He could be playful if he wanted to, he could kiss the man for no reason. It was just a fling. Jake would go home and they would both have fond memories of this time together.

 

So as Jake stripped off his shirt and dropped it onto the ground, Cougar let himself watch with rapt attention.

 

Jake didn’t try to tease or make a show of it. He was uncomfortable with Cougar’s apparent interest in watching him undress, not to mention re-dress himself, that much was obvious. But he was still allowing the Hispanic man his moment of fun, glancing over at him furtively, blue eyes shaded behind a fan of gold-dusted lashes. Licking his lips, Carlos let his eyes devour the sight of Jake’s stomach muscles and the dark hair that decorated his chest and disappeared under his waistband. Jake must have caught the motion as his hands descended to the button his pants for the light flush on his cheeks suddenly darkened once more.

 

But he didn’t tell Cougar to stop, to turn away, something that the half-incubus took great pleasure in as well as the rising tide of sexual interest he could feel piquing in Jake. It must be nice to be so young, so full of want. Of course, Cougar’s appetite was unnatural and would always out-class any human, but that went without saying. He’d learned to see sex as a necessity rather than the take-it-or-leave-it desire of normal people. He was like a nymphomaniac without all the self-hate.

 

Maybe. Perhaps. Let’s not talk about that, okay?

 

Off with his pants!

 

Cougar smirked and bit down on his tongue to stifle the laugh that wanted to escape.

 

“What?” Jake asked as he was easing his boxers over his hips.

 

Wordlessly, Cougar crooked a finger at him. Jake’s eyebrows went up and he took a cautious step forwards. That time he beckoned the younger man forwards with his whole hand. A smile beginning to play on his face, Jake stepped closer and closer as Cougar kept reeling him in. He was forced to stop when his legs touched Cougar’s denim-covered knees.

 

Still without saying a word, he let his hands run up Jake’s toned, lightly furred legs and drank in his lowering eyelids and the goosebumps that spread in his wake. Callused fingertips traced the hollows of his hipbones and rounded over the side. “Hm,” Cougar breathed, leaning forwards so that his nose traced one sharp hip from the outside in, stopping just above those dark curls, “Quisiera aspirarle tengo gusto de esto, pero no ahora. Más adelante, quizá más adelante.” _I’d like to suck you like this, but I won’t right now. Later, maybe later._

Jake’s member was already beginning to fill with blood in anticipation. Just the sight of Cougar anywhere near his dick did horrible things to him, scrambling his brain signals and whatnot. The blond groaned. “You know I have no idea what you’re saying.”

 

Cougar looked up smiling and used his grip on Jake’s waist to pull him down. For someone who was larger than he was, they fit together with relative ease, Jake sliding onto his lap, knees balancing him on the mattress. His bulkier arms looped over Cougar’s shoulders and the air between them was saturated with intent. “I said,” Cougar’s lips fluttered over Jake’s, “that you are a temptation…” His tongue licked the corner of Jake’s full mouth. “And you’d better put some clothes on if you want to see anything of Mazatlan at all. The ceiling doesn’t count.”

 

Jake’s answering laugh was shocked, a whip-crack of sound that he honestly hadn’t anticipated on expelling. If he had, he might’ve regulated it a little better. As it was, the sound drew the attention of his very curious (read: nosy) roommates.

 

However, the two of them were oblivious to the sound of quick footsteps fading away and returning.

 

Cougar found himself swallowing the last of the bubbles of mirth with his lips and tongue, and soon they were taking quick breaths through their noses to keep the contact between them longer. Fingers were tangled in the long strands of his ponytail, tugging and directing as their lips danced a paso doble.

 

Jake pulled away first, needing more than just a desperate suck of air through his nostrils. His head tipped back and Cougar took advantage, nibbling lightly down the thick, muscular column. A groan fell out of the younger man like somebody had pulled it from somewhere deep inside of him—so aroused. The sound, instead of exciting Cougar more, made him pause, and he realized that his magic—for lack of a better word—was fanning the flames higher, making Jake much more turned on than a bit of kissing should leave him.

 

He was fully hard now, pelvis rocking forwards as he mindlessly sought to ease the ache in his balls.

 

Shit.

 

Fortunately, there was a thump outside the room and the door crashed open, hitting the wall. Jake was so startled that he almost jumped up, then seemed to realize he was completely naked and that puddle on the floor of blond tresses and pink pajamas with sheep on them was his roommate.

 

“Faye!” A mortified voice hissed from the other side of the doorway.

 

“Oh my god, Faye! What are you doing?” Jake shouted, clinging even harder to Cougar, who took advantage of the distraction to dial back on the Lust Potion No. 9 routine. That and Jake’s utter humiliation at the situation had him going flaccid.

 

Faye had a glass in her hand.

 

Cougar started chuckling but draped his arms a little lower so that Jake wasn’t worried about his roommate catching a shot of his bare ass.

 

“Get back here!” The other girl cried and hands reached through the doorway to grab Faye’s ankles. With surprising strength, Nicki hauled her back out. Faye went cackling unapologetically but didn’t put up a fuss. Out in the living room, Nicki growled, “I can’t believe you.”

 

“Shut the door!” Jake cried.

 

Nicki appeared a moment later still in her pajamas—an MIT t-shirt and loose shorts—with a hand clapped over her eyes. She felt around blindly for the edge of the door, then backed out slowly. “Sorry, Jake.”

 

The blond haired man just buried his burning—burning for an entirely different reason now—face into Cougar’s shoulder.

 

The bartender wasn’t laughing anymore. Feeling Jake’s embarrassment, he was running his hands up and down the other man’s back. “It’s okay,” he tried to say, “She didn’t see anything, and really she was not spying on anything too…crazy.”

 

“She shouldn’t have been spying at all,” Jake muttered.

 

Cougar shrugged but mentally agreed. “Some women like to see two men together. Perhaps Faye is one of them.”

 

“…That’s disgusting,” Jake shuddered, “I don’t ever want to think about what weird, kinky shit Faye might be into. She once told me how she made her boyfriend have sex with her while wearing and pretending to be a hand puppet. Some weird Muppets fantasy. After that, I… Gross.”

 

After a long moment of silence where Cougar felt Jake ease back into his normal mood—pleasantly neutral—he asked, “Which Muppet?”

 

He probably deserved the punch to his arm for that.

 

\---

 

_Part Sixteen_

 

“You should probably get dressed,” Cougar said after he’d finished rubbing his now-sore arm. He was still smirking though, which Jake took as a good sign even if it roused his ire a little at the same time. It hadn’t hurt that much. Good. He hadn’t wanted it to. Just a little love tap.

 

Jake sighed. “I suppose. Before Faye comes back.”

 

The younger man carefully removed himself from Cougar’s lap and padded back over to his bag. He couldn’t believe Faye had actually done that. It was so…so juvenile and rude, a gross invasion of privacy. Jake staunchly ignored the fact that if she’d done it to anyone else, he would have found the situation comical, but instead all he felt was the faint burn of shame through his veins. He was so going to get her back for that stunt someday. Just that little bit of kissing had him so hard, so ready, and all he could think about was Cougar’s dick lodged in his ass earlier. Jake had the sure feeling that he was going to get some and then Faye came along and fell through his door, literally busting up his private party.

 

Not cool, Faye. Not cool.

 

This wasn’t some high school party where you pants-check your friends to make sure they aren’t having sex in your parents’ bed, or to be sure that they don’t make the biggest mistake of their life with that one person they specifically told you (when sober) not to let them have sex with. It was the privacy of his own goddamn room when he was a grown-ass man, totally sober and ready to take responsibility for his actions even (especially) if they involved rowdy mid-day sex with a hot Hispanic bartender. Fuck yeah, especially then! You don’t go busting in on that shit.

 

Grumbling mentally, Jake pulled on clean underwear and gray shorts, and his t-shirt that said ‘Dear Math, I’m not a therapist. Solve your own problems.’ It was one of his favorites.

 

Fucking cockblock. Faye was going to pay. He wasn’t sure how or when, but she’d pay dearly. Operation: Twatblock was in its conception stage.

 

Jake rolled on his deodorant. He was using a lot down in Mexico. Not that it was his fault or anything. Biology. He was a white boy from New Hampshire. Being so close to the equator was hell on his equilibrium. He was used to five months of winter and barely any sun. At this rate, he was going to have to buy stock in Speed Stick and Banana Boat just to get him through the week. Okay, so maybe that was a teensy exaggeration, but he was totally going to need more deodorant by the time he got back to Cambridge.

 

Cougar was leaning back on his elbows when Jake turned around, and the blond found himself smiling a little silly at the image of him—tan, sexy, grinning so hard that his eyes crinkled up at the corners—there on his rented bed. “Ready?” his Latin lover queried.

 

Shaking his head, he mumbled something about his toothbrush and walked out of the room before he…well, before he did something that made himself look incredibly stupid and desperate, like flinging himself down at Cougar’s booted feet and clawing through his jeans in a bid to get that gorgeous cock in his mouth A.S.A.P. Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? Yeah, he was a guy and as a member of the male sex he was almost perpetually horny, but this was a little extreme even for him. Jake had never, ever in his life reacted this strongly to someone, male or female. It was like Cougar was a drug. Prep that vein and shoot him up!

 

Nicki was lying on the living room couch with the volume up on the t.v. She had her eyes on Faye, obviously having taken it upon herself to play Jake’s guard dog for the moment, who was moving around in the kitchen humming to herself. Jake spared a moment to glare at his blond haired roommate who was normally full of bad ideas, but this kind of took the cake. She just stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry through the air.

 

Jake took the high road and went in the bathroom to brush his teeth and use his electric razor on his face, moving carefully around his goatee. An absent thought occurred to him as he was scrubbing the bristles over his teeth, foamy paste trying to escape the confines of his mouth: their bathroom here was quite a bit bigger than Cougar’s. He looked around, looked specifically and speculatively at the bathtub. They could both fit in there probably. It had one of those curved bars that supposedly gave you thirty-three percent more space in the shower. They could definitely make that work.

 

There his mind strayed again back like an unruly dog to the subject of sex. Cougar was like a shiny new toy and Jake wanted to play with it until something broke. _Gay sex_ was the Ken doll to Cougar’s Barbie, and he wanted them to hop in the Barbie Corvette and cruise along to the Dream House for some hot monkey lovin’ that would burn that pink, plastic mother down. It was kind of scary that he knew that much about Barbie, and blamed it entirely on Josie and how she would force him to play with her otherwise she’d _annihilate_ his action figures. Wrenching his mind back to the task at hand, Jake finished up his business and rolled along before he accidentally shaved off his goatee while lost in fantasies.

 

…Fucking Muppets.

 

It was going to take extensive tequila therapy to forget that little gem again.

 

By the time Jake stepped out of the bathroom, he found Cougar making breakfast in the kitchen, and Faye and Nicki both sprawled out in the living room like their asses had grown attached to the furniture. Nicki had her arm over her eyes, and Faye looked up at his approach, smiling. She waved. Faye just loved being babied.

 

Jake ignored her smugness and went in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter while Cougar worked over a frying pan on the stove. “Cougar,” Jake began, wondering how to phrase this delicately, “What the hell are you doing? These are the self-same bitches that just tried to use us like an erotica audiobook…and you’re making them breakfast?”

 

Shoulders that were stronger than their size implied, covered by the softest cotton shirt that ever existed (and he knew that for a fact now) rose up and down in a careless shrug. “No reason to let them suffer so. Besides, if they eat something greasy and drink a lot of water, they will have more of the day to do something fun.” Stepping away from the stovetop for a moment, Cougar turned around to face Jake. His arms came up, resting on Jake’s chest just over the printed logo, and then smoothed down over his chest and his stomach. There was a smirk on Cougar’s tanned face that said he knew just how much the motion affected him. Grip curling around his waist in a loose hug, Cougar tugged him away from the lip of the counter and into a gentle, flirtatious lip lock. Neatly groomed facial hair tickled his lip, and the whole thing itself made Jake smile. “If they go see these men, their new friends, then we will have the place to ourselves. You do not mind if we come back from our sightseeing for supper, do you?” The words rumbled against his mouth and Jake’s libido purred in response.

 

That sounded like an amazing plan. Like a plan that could only get more perfect if it involved a tub of whipped cream and not a spoon in sight.

 

Was he always this horny?

 

“You Machiavellian bastard,” Jake laughed and brushed his lips against the other man’s, “I like the way you think.”

 

Cougar chuckled, low and slow, and something deep inside Jake’s stomach clenched and did a funny little flip. He felt that sound against his skin, in his innards, and it made him…happy.

 

He was happy when Cougar was happy.

 

Oh, Jesus.

 

Then it hit Jake for the very first time. _I could fall in love with this man. I could. I might be even at this very moment._ The thought terrified him. It was too much, too soon, too hopelessly tragic and clichéd.

 

God, he couldn’t really be…falling for Cougar, could he?

 

No. No, no. It was just some stupid little infatuation. Nicki told him about this. People thinking they’re in love with the person who takes their virginity. Maybe…maybe that was it. Just v-card-taking obsession. Not…not love. Not the big ‘L.’

 

“Jake,” Cougar was looking up at him, dark eyes filled with concern, “Are you alright?”

 

Shaking his blond head as though the action helped bring him back to reality, Jake smiled at his tanned, exotic paramour. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, but could feel the note of wrongness in it, that little bit of panic that he couldn’t quite squash. Why did he have to think that thing? Now he was going to fuck it all up. _Two days, then Cambridge with fond memories. That’s the plan. Stick to the plan._

He didn’t know if Cougar realized there was something wrong and chose not to pry, or if he was a better actor than he gave himself credit for. Either way, Cougar didn’t say anything. He nodded his head, eyes disappearing under the brim of his hat for a moment, and finally said, “Lost in thought. Where did you go?”

 

Instead of answering, Jake kissed the small bare patch of skin on Cougar’s chin, then his mouth and murmured, “Don’t forget you’re cooking.”

 

“Ah, si,” Cougar pulled back with a wry grin and turned back around to the stove.

 

Jake turned and walked into the living room, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at his pathetic roommates. He gave them the evil eye. Nicki didn’t even raise her arm from over her eyes, ignoring him entirely. Faye smiled, then glared back, then pouted when Jake refused to relinquish his expression.

 

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m sorry. You happy now?”

 

“No. What were you…? _Why_ were you…?” He waved his hands frantically as though to ward off a blow. “No! I don’t really want to know. Scratch that. Highlight and delete!”

 

Nicole snorted on the couch but still didn’t move much. “For what it’s worth, I tried to stop her. Hell, I even got up out of bed to put a halt to things. Except…well, I was trying to pull her away from the door and she grabbed the knob, and we were slipping on the carpet…then crash-bang, coitus interruptus. You totally missed the part where I fell on my ass in the opposite direction.”

 

“You—“ Jake stated, pointing a finger at the redhead, “—are a good friend. Faye, just know that I’ll be waiting, watching for the right time to exact my vengeance.” The pointing finger landed on the blond girl with serious intent, like an old hag in a play casting a spell. “You’re not allowed to use me as porn. That’s what the internet is for.”

 

Somewhere behind him, Cougar was laughing.

 

Jake turned.

 

He had two plates, one on either hand. The silverware was piled on top.

 

Automatically, the younger man took one of them and brought it to Nicki. “Sit up, sweetheart. Eat something. You’ll start to feel better.” With a groan, she complied, curling her legs up onto the couch next to her and using the arm as a makeshift table.

 

Cougar brought the other plate to Faye. When he was handing it off, he leaned in very close and murmured, “So you think he is mad, hm?”

 

With a twist of lips that could have been either a grimace or a suppressed grin, Faye responded, “If I’d known he was going to act like some kind of prude, trust me, I wouldn’t have done it. Probably. Well, I might have done it anyway. I do like to poke the bear.”

 

Patting her on the shoulder, Cougar backed off and sidled back over to Jake, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him towards the door. With a grin, he barked over his shoulder, “The bear is leaving. Eat and drink plenty of water. You’ll feel fine soon enough.”

 

“Where are you guys going?” Nicki asked when she tucked her food in her cheek.

 

“I have plans for this bear,” the Hispanic man was almost chortling. “Say bye to your friends.”

 

“Bye to your friends,” Jake waved over his shoulder—giggles followed them out, and shoved aside his confusion in order to enjoy the day. When the two of them were back outside on the front stoop, he turned to the older man. “So what are we doing today?”

 

“Local stuff today. Then I figured perhaps I could take you to El Rosario tomorrow. I don’t know if you’re religious, but there is a small church there. The artwork is amazing. The altar in the church is made of pure gold. It is a tiny city, not much for tourism, but it has some nice sights that not a lot of people get to see.”

 

“Sounds good. Lead the way, maestro.”

 

And as they walked off together it seemed totally natural when Cougar took his hand.

 

_Part Seventeen_

“Wow,” Carlos heard Jake breathe out; almost too quiet to catch except that they were standing so close together. He tipped back his bottled water and drained a fair portion of it in two glugs. Then he turned his attention back to his gringo friend, whose face was turned out, looking over the balustrade of the lookout point. “Worth the trek then?” he asked calmly.

 

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Jake replied, turning his head to meet the dark gaze of his companion just as a huge smile overtook his face, “This is amazing, Cougs. Spectacular. You can see everything from up here.”

 

And you could. The lookout spots weren’t particularly high—maybe two flights of stairs—but they were positioned along the coast on high points so that if one looked out over the water, all that was visible was an endless field of blue that seemed to stretch into eternity. The sea and the sky were indistinguishable from one another on days like that one where they were bright, beautiful, happy. Then if you turned toward the town you could see all the little districts blending into one: old Mazatlan whose architecture was from the late 19th century, large villas, shiny new resorts and high rises, each of them a piece of the puzzle of what made Mazatlan so special.

 

He’d wanted Jake to have that picture to take with him in his mind; Mazatlan’s beauty from a bird’s eye. It really was an exquisite picture.

 

“I’m glad you like it.”

 

They weren’t holding hands anymore. About three blocks away from the rental they had silently separated. The gesture, an impulse on his part that he should have denied—it wasn’t really socially okay to walk around holding another man’s hand--quickly became stifling. Their palms became hot and sweaty in the humid air, and the shared space between the two hands trapped it all inside of a dark cocoon, building between them until it was unbearable; a tiny little greenhouse. Great for growing things. If they’d held onto some popcorn seeds, Cougar was pretty sure they would have burst. As it was, it was too hot, too close, too much for two men who were taking a casual stroll to one of the lookout points positioned around the city.

 

If he was honest, Cougar would have admitted that he kind of missed it. The simple embrace reminded him of youth, innocence: taking pleasure in such a small thing was uncommon in his existence.

 

He rubbed his hand over his jeans to try and replace that phantom feeling of a hand laced with his own with that of rough, textured denim.

 

Jake took his cell phone out of the pocket of his shorts and started snapping pictures. “I do, I do,” he crowed, “The view is amazing. I already said that, didn’t I? It’s spectacular. My friends are going to be so jealous when I show them these. Makes me wish I’d grabbed my camera.”

 

“Better you didn’t,” Cougar laughed, “There are some people here, as is everywhere, with sticky fingers. You won’t know you’ve lost your very nice cámara until it’s too late.”

 

“Pickpockets? People pickpocket here?” Jake glanced over at him; eyes narrowed but alight with curiosity behind his slightly bent glasses.

 

“People pickpocket everywhere.”

 

Jake shrugged. “Guess so, but it’s never happened to me before.”

 

Grinning, Cougar moved in very close so that there was hardly any space between them. He called up some of his magic as his smile turned hotter, darker, slower like a greenhouse was blooming inside of him. Something reached up from somewhere deep within and coiled around him like a snake, but he sent it away, a charged tendril of energy, until it touched the blazing aura that exuded from Jake Jensen. He could see it now, feel it like a halo, like a miniature sun inside of the younger man, and the second his own energy met it he felt it jump and spark; a solar flare.

 

The connection was formed, a tenuous bridge from his essence to Jake’s. It was pale and weak in comparison to the link that formed when he fed from someone, but it was enough for him to send a simple suggestion to Jake’s inner self. _Desire me_ , he whispered, _let yourself be distracted with me_ , and Jake’s eyes dilated as he leaned in closer. Cougar feathered his hand down over Jake’s side, and the other man groaned when he finally closed the gap between them in a chaste lip lock.

 

When he pulled away, Cougar cut the connection, pulling back his magic as quick as he could. “Are you sure?” he whispered, voice dark with humor as he raised his right hand, wiggling Jake’s plain brown leather wallet between his index and middle finger.

 

“Oh, you little prick,” Jake laughed and grabbed his wallet, stuffing it into his front pocket, “I can’t believe you did that. Where’d you learn that? I didn’t feel a thing.”

 

He shrugged his shoulders casually. “You pick things up when you travel.”

 

“Man of mystery,” his companion intoned, “Okay, I can dig it. Where to next?”

 

“The Mercado?” Carlos suggested, “There is a lot to see there.”

 

“Sure,” Jake agreed, “I can pick up some souvies for my friends who couldn’t make it. Good idea.” He smiled, teeth brilliant and white, and Cougar found himself in awe of the young man’s sheer enthusiasm for life. He suddenly felt old, like an adult explaining the ways of the world to a wide-eyed child. Suddenly just being around Jake was draining him, making him feel slow and crabby, Jake’s luster making the unpolished surface of Cougar’s soul look grimy, tarnished. He pushed aside the feeling, whatever it was, and tried to focus on the task at hand. “Then let us go,” Cougar replied, and led the way as they paced back down the staircase. They hit the poured cement path and walked side by side toward the open air market.

 

The air was hot, the sun blazing down on them. It was close to lunch and people would be heading out, leaving their work places, going home to have the meal with their families. Some would take a siesta, sleep off the large meal. Others headed to the cantinas and restaurants with friends or co-workers. Whatever the case was, the market would be packed.

 

Every four paces their arms swung at the same time—Cougar’s left and Jake’s right—and just barely brushed past each other. The contact raised the hair on his arms like he’d rubbed it with a balloon. It was distracting him. He glanced sidelong at Jake, who raised his eyebrows questioningly and asked, “What?” But there was a look on his face of mischievousness and hyperawareness that said he was all too cognizant of the slight caress, and of the tingling warmth it inspired in both parties. Carlos grinned wryly, chuckling a little under his breath, and shook his head. He ran his tongue over his lip.

 

Halfway to the Mercado, Jake blurted out, “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. I have to know where on earth you learned how to pick pockets! That is the coolest, most bizarre skill that anyone, particularly a bartender, could have.”

 

Cougar’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled under the shadow of his hat. “Are you sure you want to know? What if it’s a bad story? What if you find out something about me that you don’t like?” It wasn’t anything like that, of course. No big, deep, dark secret, at least not concerning this.

 

“Puh-lease,” Jake rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses so they rested further up his nose, “Spit it out, Cougar. I highly doubt you’re some kind of closet master-thief.”

 

“I could be.” They were both stubbornly silent then; Cougar amused, Jake skeptical. When he saw that Jake wasn’t going to back down, he shrugged his shoulders. “I knew someone, a young woman named Camille. She was a thief. Her parents died when she was a child, and she lived with her grandmother, who was ill. To supplement their income Camille stole; mostly from tourists, like you and your friends, but sometimes from others as well. Her abuela passed away last year and Camille left town. Anyway, she taught me.”

 

Cougar didn’t think that Jake needed to know that Camille had been seventeen when they’d met, and that on and off for two years they had been lovers. Never more than three times before Carlos would refuse to see her again. Camille hadn’t been heartbroken though. She, like Cougar, had other lovers. She’d liked to play the field, which made her perfect for him. It had all the comfort and familiarity of a relationship without there being any actual relating. Just sex and sometimes easy company when one or the other was lacking in some. They’d ignore each other for months, go about their business, and then one day she would show up out of the blue, give him a sultry look from underneath dark, lowered lashes, and they would be on again for another intense week, maybe even less, of fucking.

 

He’d liked that about Camille quite a bit, actually. How she cycled through men so quickly, so perfectly in-tune with how she led the rest of her life: fast-paced and furtively. Once she’d admitted to him that the reason she kept coming back again and again to him was because she was addicted. “You know that I only am fascinated by the newness of a man, the rush of all those firsts. For months I won’t be bothered by your absence at all, Carlos. There are plenty of men to be preoccupied with. Except then I’ll catch sight of you or something will make me remember, and then I find myself driven by the thought of your hands on my body. I must repeat the experience. You’ve addicted me to your sex. I think if I weren’t already so enthralled by the sensations of breaking in a new lover I’d be devastated when these flings were over.” Maybe she had truly been addicted to him. Cougar didn’t know. For such a young woman, Camille had an old soul and a mature outlook on life. She lived like a tired, old libertine, dissipated by her own debauchery. Perhaps the drama of her words had just been another aspect of her hedonistic self.

 

“How’d you meet a thief?” Jake asked, his voice breaking into Cougar’s reverie.

 

“Hm? Oh, she and her grandma lived in the neighborhood. We saw each other around. One day I helped carry her groceries up to her apartment. After that the progression was natural.”

 

Blue eyes lit up as they latched onto that one word. “Progression? To what? Was she your girlfriend?” A delighted grin broke out on the other man’s face. Clearly he was enjoying the idea of Cougar dating a thief. His mind was probably spinning in a thousand different directions, thinking up elaborate fantasies involving women in cat suits and rappelling gear.

 

“No,” Cougar laughed, disabusing him of any romantic notions in a hurry, “I don’t normally have relationships. We had sex sometimes and were friends, I guess, but…well, Camille went through men quickly. It was hard for her to commit.” He left out the part about how it was impossible for him to commit as well, and that’s what had made them so damn perfect for each other, at least on paper.

 

They hit the streets of the Mercado just as Jake said to him, “That must be lonely. There’s no real opportunity to have any sort of connection or depth of feeling in that kind of life. I knew this girl in high school who was like that, always jumping from one guy to the next. She was very popular, but it was superficial. None of them really knew who she was or cared to find out. We’d go see The Rocky Horror Picture Show together once a month at this little theater when they had the live actors there. I always wanted to ask her out, but I didn’t think she saw me as anything more than a friend. I wasn’t the kind of guy who would use her up and throw her away, and I wasn’t stupid--those were the kinds of guys she was attracted to.”

 

From underneath the brim of his hat, Carlos studied Jake, absorbed the somber expression on his face—lips pressed together tightly, turned down at the corners—and thought not for the first time that maybe this was a horrible idea. Jake obviously wasn’t one for having a lot of casual sex. However, Cougar reminded himself that Jake was an adult too, that they’d gone into this with eyes wide open. _Just fun_ , he reminded himself, _just temporary_. As long as they both remembered that was all this was, it would be fine. “Look,” Cougar grinned and nudged Jake with his elbow, “Hats.”

 

He perked up again, like an excited golden retriever, tail bushed and wagging, ears high on its head. “ _Cowboy_ hats! Yee-haw!” Jake shouted and tugged Cougar over by his arm, the grip unshakeable. As the blond haired man was settling a brown hat on his head and turning to look in the carefully placed mirror, Carlos leaned in close to him and whispered, “And Jake? She was a stupid girl. Her penchants will cause her a lifetime of grief.”

 

Jake looked at Cougar over his shoulder and grinned back, “Yeah, I know that now, but at seventeen all I knew was I was heartbroken.” He looked around. “Come on, try this one on,” the young man cajoled, blue eyes pleading with him from behind the slightly reflective lenses of his glasses. He held up a hat in his hand, and Cougar automatically took a step back.

 

“No way in hell, amigo,” he stated roughly, looking at the colorful, woven cap. He wasn’t sure what it was called, but Cougar knew that most often he saw them on the heads of Rastafarians.

 

Jake pouted, his lower lip sticking out comically. “Cougs…”

 

Thinking fast, he grabbed the ugliest hat he could find on the display, a cap with colored seed beads sewn on top of it. So many and in no discernible pattern, it looked like the cake decorating aisle had thrown up on it, all of its sparkly little gems and matte sprinkles sticking to the cotton hat. “I will try that on if you try this on,” he offered in what he felt was a pretty fair trade.

 

It took Cougar two seconds to realize that he had severely underestimated Jake Jensen as a look of unholy glee lit up his features. “Deal!” Jake shouted. The bland cowboy hat was tossed aside and the ridiculously girly newsboy perched on his head. It didn’t quite fit, but there it was, tipped rakishly in all its white-fabricked, bejeweled glory; a hipster hat gone horribly, horribly wrong. Clearly, Jake Jensen was not above using underhanded tactics to get what he wanted. He kind of admired that in a person.

 

With a long-suffering sigh, Cougar painstakingly removed his hat and put on the poofy rasta cap. “Esto parece estúpido.” _This looks stupid._

 

“No way, man! Come here!” Jake waved him closer so they stood nearly cheek to cheek, sharing the space of the small wall mirror perched above the display table. They looked absolutely silly. Jake had the hugest smile on his face that lit him up from the inside out, and Cougar looked dark, pained, and miserable. They were a study in contrasts. Jake held his phone out in front of them, flipping it around, and tugged Cougar closer, who came with great reluctance. A loud clack later, and they were staring at an image of themselves, faces pressed together, both of them looking absolutely, breathtakingly dumb. Jake snorted and started laughing. “Awesome,” he murmured between breathless chuckles.

 

Finally, Cougar couldn’t hold it back any longer; his lips were twitching with the effort, compressed tightly. He tipped back his head, dumping the stupid hat on the ground, and let out a rumbling belly laugh that lasted so long he had to bend down and clutch his stomach because it was starting to hurt. “Estás loco.” _You’re crazy._

Jake shrugged and started laughing even harder. “Maybe,” he wheezed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

 

When they finally calmed, the two men realized almost at the same moment that the stall owner was looking at them rather strangely. Cougar grinned at the older man, and Jake did a little jig and asked cheekily, “So do you have anything with a propeller on top?”

 

The little man cocked his head to the side. “¿Qué?” _What?_

Cougar laughed to himself and said quietly, “No hagas caso a mi amigo. Es un poco lento.” _Don’t mind my friend. He’s a little slow._

“Ah, si,” the shopkeeper nodded sagely and shot a smile that could have used some dental work at Jake. Eyes darting back and forth between Cougar and the shopkeeper, narrowed suspiciously, Jake had no choice but to smile back. His Spanish wasn’t that great, but he knew from the byplay of the conversation that Cougar had probably said something that wasn’t ‘this is my friend, Jake, he’s totally awesome; you should give us some free hats.’

 

Bending slightly at the waist, Cougar swooped up the discarded hat from the ground, dusting it off with a quick shake, and replaced it on the hat stand. “Put your hat back,” he teased Jake, “Unless you think it is your style?”

 

The smile Jake shot his way was entertained but slightly embarrassed, his cheeks darkening a little as the blood underneath heated. He tipped his head forward and let the newsboy cap fall into his hands, and smoothly replaced it back where he’d found it. “I look better in a fedora,” he volleyed back, grinning cheekily. “Have a good day!” Jake said to the stall owner and waved goodbye. Politeness was too ingrained in him to not say anything, despite the fact that he was well aware the man spoke no English. He figured the intent came across anyway.

 

As they strode from the little shop in the square, cluttered with dozens of other equally small stalls, Carlos said over his shoulder, “Buenas tardes.” Then they were moving through the market at a slow, meandering pace, forced to flow with the crowd like cattle. It was crowded right then at lunchtime, just like Cougar had predicted it would be. The place was a sea of bodies packed tightly together, ebbing and flowing through a vast land of warring smells—spices, baked goods, fruit, leather, straw, clay; the smell of other bodies, women’s perfume and men’s cologne—and a cacophony of sound: shopkeepers hawking their wares, the sound of people chattering over one another, wheeling and dealing. There were children laughing, babies squealing, chickens clucking from somewhere deep within the belly of the beast. It was a perfectly distilled drop of life in Mazatlan. Every-day to the Nth degree.

 

Jake was looking around, wide-eyed, turning his head this way and that to capture the scene, taking it all in perfectly silent. “Busy, hey?” Cougar found himself asking. Chit-chat wasn’t his forte, but he disliked it when his companion didn’t speak for long moments. The quiet between them was too comfortable like they’d known each other far longer than just a few days. It was natural, intimate even in the midst of a crowd. Jake’s fingertip brushed his surreptitiously as his head tilted almost coquettishly, lips pulled up at the corners in the briefest of smiles.

 

“Yes,” Jake agreed, “But I like it.”

 

So they walked onward.

 

Like a bird or a small child, Cougar discovered that Jake wanted to touch everything, experience it for himself. He dragged the bartender about with a commanding hand on his upper arm unthinkingly when he was particularly excited regarding something he’d spotted. It was worse if it was shiny. Anything sparkly or eye-catching, Jake had to know what it was. He couldn’t rest until he’d rooted out the source of the distraction. Instead of annoying Cougar, it kind of made him laugh.

 

“Oooh, Cougar, c’mere!” Jake’s hand shot out, latching on to his forearm, and they were off again, zig-zagging through the crowd. “Wow, look at these!” he fawned as they stopped at the small stall. It was very simple; a small over-hang and a large folding table. A muslin cloth was draped on the white surface artfully, the color and flow of it reminiscent of the white sand beaches. Set up proudly were picture frames—dozens of them, each one slightly different.

 

He grinned at the woman running the booth. “Buenas tardes, Senora Miguela,” Cougar greeted her. The older woman stuck a torn piece of paper between the pages of the paperback romance novel she was reading and stood up from her comfortable folding chair with an answering smile. “Carlos!” she cried and leaned over the table to pull him into a hug, “¡Es tan bueno verle! ¿Cómo estas, querido chico?” _It’s so good to see you! How are you, darling boy?_

“Muy bien. Y tu?” Cougar replied, arms around the older woman as best as he could get them given the awkward angle of the embrace. He bussed his lips against the papery skin of her tanned cheek as he pulled away. _Very good. And you?_

“Todavía vivo, así que adivino que eso es un signo bueno.” _Still alive, so I guess that’s a good sign._ Miguela responded with typical good humor. Then she turned her attention to Jake, who was watching the exchange curiously. Senora Miguela wasn’t a very imposing woman physically—that day her dark hair, woven through with silver and gray, was pinned back on either side of her head with a simple bobby pin; she wore a conservative denim dress that buttoned down the front the way she preferred, cinched at the waist with a thin red belt, and orthopedic shoes; her glasses were large plastic frames on a beaded necklace; she was fairly short and slender for an elderly woman—but when she looked at Jake over the rim of her glasses, Cougar could swear he saw the other man shiver and stand up straighter. Indeed, Miguela eyed him like a scientist considered an aberration in nature—coolly, curiously, but without bias, simply waiting to see what the subject of the study would do next.

 

Then she grinned and motioned with a hand towards the gringo, but directed her commentary to Cougar. “¿Y quién es éste?” _And who is this?_

 

“Éste es mi amigo, Jake,” he replied. _This is my friend, Jake._

 

The elderly woman raised one eyebrow, but all she said was, “Ah, veo.” _Ah, I see_.

 

Turning to the curious blond, Cougar gestured to his neighbor and explained, “This is my friend and neighbor, Senora Miguela.”

 

“Ah, hola,” Jake stated and waved a little awkwardly. It seemed that Miguela decided to cast aside whatever speculations she might have about the kind of friendship that Cougar shared with Jake in favor of good manners, because she reached out her hand with a little smile and stated, “Hola, Jake.” As they clasped hands and she shook his enthusiastically, the tiny woman asked, “Habla español?” _Do you speak Spanish?_

Shaking his head mournfully, he admitted, “No bueno. Habla ingles?” _Not good. Do you speak English?_

Miguela’s laughter was like a coyote’s yip, sharp and short, managing to hit several notes at once. “Not good,” she squeezed out, “I try. Carlos helps.” Her English was thick and heavily accented, and when she was done speaking she looked to Cougar with a question in her eyes, seeking approval. He dipped his chin ever so slightly to reassure her that she had gotten it right. Miguela beamed with pride. “Perro viejo, nuevos trucos,” she murmured under her breath. _Old dog, new tricks._

Cougar rubbed his hand over his chin to hide his grin.

 

“¿Qué le trae a la ciudad?” Miguela asked Jake, and with an imperious gesture to Cougar, indicated he should translate. _What brings you to the city?_ He did so with a quiet murmur to his companion and added, “I’ll probably translate most of the conversation for you both, just so you know.”

 

“Okay,” Jake agreed with a little nod, then he said to Miguela, “Vacaciones.”

 

“Ah,” she grinned, “Es un estudiante colegial.” _You’re a college student._

“Si,” Jake agreed congenially, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was rocking back on his heels a little nervously, and Cougar wondered just how this was going to go as he saw Miguela’s eyes alight on that tell-tale body language. She wasn’t a mean woman, but she was mischievous. Cougar wouldn’t have put it past her to try and make Jake a little uncomfortable just for kicks and giggles. “At MIT,” he continued on, “In Massachusetts. It’s cold there, but pretty and there’s like…stuff there.” He opened his mouth, drawing another breath as he prepared to say more. Sensing an impending ramble, Cougar shifted closer and surreptitiously elbowed Jake. Opening his mouth, Carlos decided to edit a little: “Va a la escuela en MIT en Massachusetts. Dice hace frio alli, pero muy bastante.” _He goes to school at MIT in Massachusetts. He says it’s cold there, but very pretty._

Miguela nodded, inclining her head like a queen, and asked very casually, “¿Y cómo encontró usted a este chico?” _And how did you meet this boy?_

“En trabajo. Deme algo traducir. Es grosero darme el tercer grado en un idioma que él no puede comprender.” _At work. Give me something to translate. It’s rude to give me the third degree in a language he can’t understand._ Cougar smiled and deliberately kept his tone light, his body language loose. He didn’t want Jake to grow even more self-conscious.

 

Truly, he hadn’t planned this excursion well. If he’d been thinking about it, Cougar would have steered Jake away from Miguela’s stall. He liked to keep his sex life separate from the rest of his life. Things got messy otherwise.

 

Lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug, Miguela responded with equal casualness, “Dígalo que pregunté lo que estudia.” _Tell him I asked what he studies._

 

Jake was looking at the picture frames, his fingers hovering over a piece made from sea glass almost longingly when Cougar said to him, “Miguela asked what you study. Computer science, right?”

 

“Yep,” the younger man replied cheerily, oblivious to the underlying conversation. “These are really nice,” he added, looking up to say it directly to Miguela, indicating her frames.

 

“Dice que sus marcos son agradables, y estudia computadoras.” _He says your frames are nice, and he studies computers._

“Gracias,” Miguela grinned at him, “Diez dólares.” _Ten dollars_. After a moment’s thought she added, “¿Cuánto tiempo estará él en la ciudad?” _How long will he be in town?_

“Sale pasado mañana.” _He leaves the day after tomorrow._

 

Miguela suddenly hesitated, looking uncertainly back and forth between the two of them. After she considered whatever it was she was thinking about, she finally decided to bite the bullet and damn the consequences. “Sabe que es ninguno de mi negocio que usted duerme con—“ _You know it’s none of my business who you sleep with--_

 

Cougar cut her off, his voice rough and forbidding as he stated, “Tiene razón, no es.” _You’re right, it’s not._

 

“—Pero,” Miguela continued on undaunted, “debe tener cuidado. Conseguir una reputación como un amante de hombres no es una cosa buena, Carlos. No aquí en México.” – _But you need to be careful. Getting a reputation as a lover of men is not a good thing, Carlos. Not here in Mexico._

 

It was there that Jake seemed to pick up on the undercurrents at the little shop, and he looked up from where he was examining two frames side by side. Suddenly his blue eyes were too perceptive as they took in Cougar’s tense stance and Miguela’s resolute countenance. “Is everything okay?” he asked carefully. Cougar spared him a perfunctory nod as Miguela continued, “No debe permitir que cuelgue en usted en el público. Las personas hablarán. Entonces algunas personas pueden hacer más que sólo conversación.” _You shouldn’t let him hang on you in public. People will talk. Then some people may do more than just talk._

“Mi vida es mi negocio,” Cougar told her quietly, trying to dial back on the tension in the area. _My life is my business._ He saw Jake stand up straight again, pretending to be preoccupied with the display while he surreptitiously kept an eye on the conversation.

 

Sighing, Miguela said to him, “No digo que esto hacerle enojado, Carlos. Lo digo porque cuido.” _I don’t say this to make you mad, Carlos. I say it because I care._ At that, the fight seemed to go out of her. She stepped back away from her side of the table with a quiet breath.

 

Jake was eyeing them both warily with the caution of a boy who’d grown up witnessing a lot of fights. Quietly, he asked, “Cougs?”

 

“We are fine,” Cougar responded, deliberately putting a small smile on his face, “Just a small debate.”

 

The small elderly woman abruptly took note of Jake’s discomfort. She leaned over the table and touched his hand briefly, then swooped up the two frames he had been looking at. “Lo siento,” she murmured with a friendly look on her face, wrapping them tightly in old newspaper and taping them shut. There was a roll of tear-off plastic bags next to her change box, like the kind you see at the grocery store in the produce section, and she tore one off, slipping them in the bag. “Cougar descuento,” Miguela grinned widely, dangling the bag over the table until Jake hesitantly grabbed it. _Cougar discount_. 

 

“Go,” she waved her fingers, dismissing them both, “Debo volver a trabaja. Agradable encontrarle, Jake.” _I need to return to work._ _Nice to meet you, Jake._

Truly relaxing now, Cougar translated for Jake one last time and returned the sentiment on his behalf. “Adios, Senora Miguela.” He tipped his hat to her.

 

“Adios, Carlos. Tenga cuidado.” _Bye, Carlos. Be careful_.

 

As the two men walked off, all Jake said was, “But I didn’t pay,” in the voice of the quietly bewildered.

 

“It’s okay,” Cougar told him, “They were a gift.”

 

Before they knew it, they were leaving the market and the strange encounter behind, though the mood lingered inside of Carlos, unsettling his usual calm fortitude. Part of him knew that Miguela was correct, that he needed to be more cautious in spending time with Jake. Unlike his blond friend, he had to live here and Mexico wasn’t exactly known for its gay pride.

 

Jake had a way of sweeping a person up in his enthusiasm though, of placing Cougar in a bubble of joy so that he lost sight of the practicalities. Sometimes with Jake he just forgot all about caution, discretion; lessons he’d thought were too deeply ingrained to be uprooted or pushed aside by anything. Jake had a magnetism about him, a charisma that made one want to bask in his presence without regard for the rest of the world.

 

Jake cleared his throat. “I’m hungry. Do you want to go back to my place for lunch?”

 

Cougar glanced over at Jake. He had a lot to think about, but did he want this day to end just yet? No, he thought to himself as his lips parted and “Yes” came out.

 

\---

 

TBC…


	7. Book One: Parts Eighteen to Twenty

Íncubo

Book One: Paraíso

 

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Faye, mild flirting, graphic description of anal play

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

 

Notes: ‘Ask and ye shall receive’ is a quote from the Bible. John 16:24, so says the beta. ‘Escozor’ means “sting.” As in the sensation. ‘Mis padres’ means “my parents.”

Speaking of betas, thanks. You know who you are.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

\---

_Part Eighteen_

**From: Jake    To: Nicki, Faye**

**Where u @?**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**Mid-day margaritas. :)**

**Coming?**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Hell no. Gettin’ some.**

**Stay away from house ‘til I txt the all-clear?**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**Sigh. Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll keep Faye distracted. ;)**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Ur the best. This totally makes up 4 making me go**

**thru airport security w/ your vibe in my bag. :)**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**…I hate you.**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Do not. :D**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**Do too. :|**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Do not ^ infinity.**

**Ha! I win! :D**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**…Keep it up. I’mma tell Faye.**

**C who wins then.**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Twat.**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**Stop txting! Ur cock-hungry ass is growling!**

**I can hear it from here!**

Jake laughed out loud and Cougar slanted a look in his direction. He shrugged. “Just making sure Nicki and Faye are alright.” He kept his tone innocent, but his expression was all mischief.

Grinning back, Cougar teased, “’Alright’ or ‘out of the house?’”

Raising his palms up in a gesture of impertinence, Jake smiled unrepentantly. “You caught me.”

“Red-handed,” Cougar agreed as they slipped through the gate of the property. He reached out and caught Jake by the wrist, tugging him closer playfully. Jake was sure that he was about to be soundly kissed when his phone buzzed in his pocket. With a low chuckle, Cougar dropped his wrist like they were playing a round of Hot Potato and stepped back. He glanced around surreptitiously while Jake pulled out the offending item and tapped the screen.

**From: Faye   To: Jake**

**Baert. Drunkin. U?**

**From: Jake   To: Faye**

**I don’t even know if this is a language. :P**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Is Faye drunk already?**

**From: Nicki   To: Jake**

**It’s ok. Took away her cell phone rights b4 sum1 gets drunk-dialed. :)**

**From: Jake   To: Nicki**

**Ur a good friend. :)**

Satisfied with that, Jake silenced his phone-- _silent_ -silenced it, not just put it on vibrate—and shoved it back in his pocket. He didn’t want any more interruptions, dammit. One lost kiss was enough!

“Excuse me,” he murmured to Cougar, who was propped up against the door looking delicious in his cowboy-esque clothing. Who knew jeans and a t-shirt could be so fucking enticing? And that hat! He wondered if he could talk Cougar into doing it one of these times with his hat on. That was something he definitely wanted to see.

With a smirk, Cougar shifted over just enough that Jake could get the rental key in the front door lock. It crowded them in very close together, and suddenly all he could smell was Carlos. He didn’t really wear cologne or after-shave, Jake had noticed, so he wasn’t exactly sure how he was able to smell so good. Granted, there was shampoo, but that didn’t normally smell so strongly. Whatever. Cougar smelled great. It was another one of those Wonders of the World, right up there with the Great Pyramids and Stonehenge.

With the awareness of just how close they were burning into his skin, heating his blood, Jake turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the house. “The girls are out,” he mumbled as Cougar slipped past him into the house, “So your breakfast worked a miracle, I guess.” Jake laughed nervously as Cougar half-turned and shot him a smoldering look.

“Good,” the Hispanic man stated, “They are lovely girls, but I prefer to have a modicum of privacy when I am seducing someone.” For some reason, those oh-so-proper words spoken in that deep voice with its slight purr instantly had Jake’s Little Jake perking its head up to say hello.

He laughed and hoped that Cougar wouldn’t notice his eagerness, wouldn’t think less of him for being so ready to skip the foreplay and move straight to the main event. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Cougar’s company, their talking and whatnot, but Jake was also very into the idea of having sex. Sex was good. Sex with Cougar was awesome. He’d been very good all day about not grabbing Cougar, and pinning him up against a wall so that he could rub up all over him and finish what that cock-blocker, Faye, had interrupted. That probably wouldn’t be considered ‘appropriate behavior.’ Especially not after the riot act that Senora Miguela had read Cougar in the Mercado.

Jake was no idiot, he could read the context clues in that conversation loud and clear. Miguela was unhappy with Cougar, and it had something to do with him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out from there. He hated the thought that he was causing problems for Cougar here just by the fact that they were hanging out together. Jake thought he’d been really well-behaved at the Mercado considering the things that he and Cougar had already gotten up to behind closed doors, and what he wanted to do. A little hand-holding-slash-arm-tugging wasn’t much, but apparently it was enough to catch certain people’s eyes.

Bigots were everywhere, Jake was coming to realize. It was part of the reason why he’d been such a late-bloomer; he could finally admit that. Maybe if it weren’t for all the societal pressures and expectations for men, he would have been more comfortable with his bisexual nature a lot sooner. It had to be harder for Cougar. He practically oozed sexuality from his pores. It wasn’t androgynous or what Jake would have called ‘gay.’ No, Cougar was wholly, entirely a man through and through, but he had a certain charisma that drew stares no matter what he was doing. Choosing to be with a man down in Mexico, where the culture was heavily entrenched in an archaic concept of machismo, had to make life a lot more difficult.

Plus Cougar knew everyone there. They’d gossip behind his back, spread rumors, and before he knew it his whole reputation would end up trashed. At least in Cambridge Jake had a bigger pond to get lost in; Mazatlan, for all that it had a large-city demeanor, was at its heart of hearts a small town where the phone tree was more reliable than the newspaper for the latest information.

“Jake?” Cougar’s voice brought him out of his thoughts with a start, and he smiled sheepishly in response.

“Sorry,” he said, “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Cougar prompted as he swept off his cowboy hat and smoothed the hairs that were sticking up on top of his head. He set it on the table and quirked an eyebrow at Jake when he remained silent, unsure of how to summarize his thoughts.

Finally, he decided not to. Just open your mouth and say something, anything, he told himself. “Life. People. Ignorance. Expectations. I don’t know, it’s complicated. When my thought train leaves the imagination station, there’s no telling where it’s going to end up.”

“Heavy thoughts, amigo,” Cougar murmured.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed with a slight shrug of his shoulders as though to say ‘what can you do?’ “How about instead of getting all doom and gloom though, we have some lunch?”

The look Cougar gave him in response could only be described as predatory. “That is what I was working toward,” he growled and took a step toward Jake.

He laughed in response, blue eyes twinkling at the exaggerated grin on Cougar’s face, and how his eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “I like the way you think,” Jake replied with his amusement laden in every facet of the words.

Cougar’s arm curved around his waist, his palm resting like a branding iron on the small of Jake’s back just above the waistband of his shorts, so hot that its presence seemed to burn right through Jake’s clothes and warmed his spine down to the vertebrae. He felt some tension release there, and Jake sank into the touch with a short, low hum of pleasure. His hands cupped Cougar’s face, traced the shape of his jaw, and his earlobes, up the cartilage, and into that dark mane of hair. Jake watched as Cougar’s pupils expanded and his lips parted, and knew that neither one of them was going to regret postponing lunch or even skipping it altogether in favor of certain _other_ activities. He ducked his head and brushed his lips across Cougar’s, reveling in the slight tickle of his facial hair, and cracking a little smile as Cougar growled at the teasing caress and pulled back to glare at him.

On his next pass, Jake pressed their mouths together firmly, parting his own lips and lapping delicately along his companion’s lower lip. He was rewarded with a groan as Cougar stepped closer, almost swaying forward, and slid his other hand up Jake’s arm, curling around his bicep.

“I want—“ Cougar began, but was cut off as Jake slanted his lips over Cougar’s and devoured him in a kiss that was as hot as the hand on the small of his back. From the eager way Cougar responded, Jake had pre-empted his needs. The hand resting on his t-shirt suddenly bunched the fabric as Cougar let out a moan and a moment later dove underneath it, stroking over Jake’s skin lightly and making him shudder.

When the kiss finally broke, the two of them had tottered back to brace themselves against the kitchen counter, Cougar leaning back flushed and panting with the edge digging into his back. Somehow he managed to not look uncomfortable at all. Licking his lips, Cougar asked Jake, “Where?”

That was all, but Jake knew exactly what he meant. Something inside of him was tingling as he responded, giddy, and playful, “Here.”

All Cougar did was quirk an eyebrow at him, and then nod slowly. “One of us must retrieve the essentials from your bedroom if you want…?”

“Hell yes. Be right back,” Jake smiled and pecked the other man on the nose.

Cougar chuckled and smiled fondly at the gesture as Jake left—hurrying, but trying not to look it—to get the lube and condoms from the bedside table.

Kinky kitchen sex was something Jake had always wanted to try. At least now he could cross it off his bucket list. He was back as fast as humanly possible, bare-chested and –footed, having tossed both sandals and shirt off in the bedroom. Jake figured it couldn’t hurt to get a head-start on things, though the look Cougar gave him when he got back was definitely more amused than aroused. That thought was confirmed when said man started laughing.

“Lo siento,” Cougar mumbled as he clapped a hand over his mouth to smother his chortling.

Incidentally it also covered up his wide grin, which Jake was kind of fond of so that was disappointing. He said as much, though in a much subtler fashion, when he gently plucked Cougar’s hand away from his lips. “I like your smile,” Jake said, and smiled back at him. If anything, Cougar’s smile grew even brighter, like sunshine in the middle of his swarthy features. His eyes softened, and something warm and sweet that had nothing to do with sex passed between them.

Cougar gently kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Gracias.”

Butterflies danced in Jake’s stomach at the simple statement, then spread outward in no discernible formation as those little kisses found their way down his stubbled cheeks to his lips where first the lower then the upper were each carefully paid attention to, nibbled upon. He felt Cougar’s hands slide over his bare skin. One fingertip teased around his left nipple until it tightened, and then moved on, gliding over his ribcage until he was encircled, _embraced_. It was the first time Jake had ever used the word in his mind in relation to himself, and something inside of him squeaked ‘safe, relax, home.’

The kiss deepened, and Jake absentmindedly shoved both the tube of lubricant and the foil-wrapped package onto the counter behind Cougar. He wanted to be here, lost in the tenderness of this moment, and for some reason he didn’t think that having a tube of slick digging into your back was very romantic. Then again…

Cougar nipped his lip, derailing his train of thought, and Jake let his hands drift lower, feeling Carlos’ waistband, his belt, and inching his way underneath the t-shirt so that he could pull the fabric up and over the other man’s head. The skin over his stomach was surprisingly soft with just a thin line of hair leading from his belly button to far more erotic landscapes. Jake resisted, heading up instead, the t-shirt bunching over his wrists until, with a sigh, Cougar broke away from his mouth and gave him just enough aid to get it completely stripped off of him, tossed onto the floor beside them. Or somewhere.

The important thing was that it was no longer in Jake’s way.

His hands drifted back down Carlos’ body, and he took advantage of the momentary space between them to feast his eyes on the sight of that sleekly muscled body, tanned from the outdoors, and traced his fingertips over the Sacred Heart tattoo. “Why this?” Jake asked.

“To be forgiven for my sins,” Carlos replied, then urged Jake to return to his lips with two fingers on his chin. They caught and clung, then fluttered apart like hummingbirds sipping nectar from flowers. Fingers normally nimble, and adept at taking apart and putting together the smallest of parts, fumbled with the Hispanic man’s belt. Jake whined in frustration, the sound traveling into Cougar’s mouth through their open-mouthed connection.

Cougar released an answering sound from somewhere deep within him, and pressed their lips together with further urgency. His hands fell away from Jake’s body, and covered the technophile’s hands. Together they slowed and worked as one to slip the leather tab out from the buckle. The pin released from the belt hole with a subtle, drawn-out pop, but the sound resonated in Jake with all the eroticism of a loud moan.

He let out a shaky breath and licked his lips, then flicked his tongue over Cougar’s mid-air in a move so wantonly vulgar that Jake felt Cougar’s dick twitch against his fingertips. Cougar groaned and stole his breath in another earth-shaking kiss.

Jake parted the zipper on the other man’s jeans, and drew back just far enough to say, “Kick off your fucking shoes.”

“Okay,” Cougar agreed with an affectionate chuckle, and a nip to Jake’s lower lip. A moment later he’d toed off his boots and batted them out of the way with one foot.

In response, Jake dipped his head to the enticing join of neck and shoulder, nuzzled the skin there, nipped, licked, sucked until Cougar was arching his back, raised up on his toes, head thrown back, eyes closed, and clinging to the pale-skinned man with both hands tight against his back. One latched onto his bony shoulder blade, and the other dug into the meat of his lower back. It was a good pain though, especially when Cougar opened his mouth, mewled, and panted for breath.

He backed off then. Yeah, that was definitely going to leave a mark, Jake observed with a measure of pride. Then he shoved Cougar’s jeans and his underwear over prominent hip bones, and let them both pool around the bartender’s ankles.

Laughing breathlessly, Cougar kicked the tangle of clothing away bent his knees so that he could reach his feet one at a time, standing like a stork as he pulled off first one sock and then the other.

Jake allowed him just enough room to do so, but ghosted his hands down the other man’s abdomen, unable to abide a complete cessation of contact, tickling the sparse hair leading to his genitalia. When Cougar straightened, he danced a little closer and let his hand drift a little lower, sliding through crisp pubic hair. The edges of his blunt nails trailed lightly over that so-sensitive skin, and Cougar shuddered. “Dios mio,” he choked out as Jake reached the base of his erection and grasped it firmly. _My god_.

There was no ‘hello, how do you do?’ then; Jake knew exactly what Carlos wanted, and the older man found himself enjoying the unexpected role reversal.

A slow, upward tug had him moaning, a little furrow appearing between his brows as he clenched his eyes shut once more. Jake brushed his lips over the tense skin, and it smoothed away as Cougar opened his eyes. A small bead of pearlescent liquid, proof of his arousal, oozed from the tiny slit in the head of his penis, and Jake swiped his thumb over it, spreading the pre-cum over his length as his hand slid back down.

“Mm,” Cougar hummed and licked his lips. Then he glided his silken mouth over Jake’s and purred, “I like this side of you.”

“Yeah?” Jake replied as he moved his hand over Cougar in another intense, drawn-out caress of his throbbing member. “Good, then undo my shorts,” he ordered with a thread of humor in his tone.

Something inside of Cougar quivered for a second, and then he obeyed once he’d managed to unlatch his palms from Jake’s skin. Button and zipper were no match for opposable thumbs, and it was the work of a moment before Jake was kicking off his shorts.

His cock fit right into the groove of Cougar’s hip bone as he stepped even closer, eliminating the space between them, and slid a hand into the other man’s dark curls to tug his head back, tilting his face up for another kiss. Its mate, the more daring of the two, slid over Cougar’s side and down his back, cupping his ass. He pulled back towards himself slightly, and Cougar flowed with the motion, hips flexing, rubbing against the younger man’s body.

It was sweet torture, hungry bodies arching, crashing into each other, mouths clinging, tongues tangled, but Jake felt Carlos’ need building, winding up, tightening like a coil or a snake ready to spring. It was echoed within him as well. His fingers slipped between tanned cheeks, and accidentally brushed against Cougar’s anus. The other man reacted like he’d been shocked, ripping his lips away with a hoarse, choked cry.

“What?” Jake blurted out and guiltily jerked his fingers back to what he considered to be more neutral territory—Cougar’s butt cheek. “Oh, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no,” Cougar soothed, chuckling, and drew Jake toward him so that he could kiss his cheek, “It has been awhile for me since I’ve…since anyone has…touched me there. I was just startled.”

“Oh?” Jake asked, relaxing as Cougar left tiny pecks of his lips over Jake’s brow, his nose, and drifted down to his lips.

“Yes,” Carlos reassured him, “I do not mind. Would you?” His tongue flickered over Jake’s lips, and they parted eagerly as he exhaled.

“Would I what?” he responded.

Chuckling once more, Cougar replied frankly, “Slick your fingers up and work them in my ass. Fuck me. Tease me until I’m begging for release.” Bending an arm behind him, Carlos fumbled for the lube on the countertop. “I’ll need it,” he stated, sliding the tube into Jake’s numb, disbelieving fingers, “Trust me.”

“Alright.” Jake’s smile flickered to life. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Ask and ye shall receive.”

“That is blasphemous,” Cougar admonished the younger man, but the effect was spoiled since he was laughing as he did it.

Jake shrugged and grinned impishly, then he popped the top of the slick and squeezed a little out onto his fingers. Dark eyes watched his movements with hungry anticipation as he wiggled his fingers, spreading the goop, then added a little extra. Before it could slide off of his fingers or slip through the cracks, Jake used his other hand to spread Cougar’s cheeks, exposing the hidden rosette to the air, and carefully smoothed his fingers around the area, teasing and relaxing the other man’s entrance all at the same time.

Like before, Cougar groaned his pleasure, though it was more controlled that time. He was expecting the intrusion now, anticipating it. He relaxed his body in welcome, widened his stance. By the time Jake’s index finger penetrated him--just the tip, not enough, not nearly enough--he was ready for it. With the position they were in, refusing to move somewhere a little plusher and recline, standing with shaky knees, clinging to each other, there was hardly room for deeper contact.

Fingers curled, Jake made it work until he tongued Cougar’s earlobe and groaned, “Turn around.”

That miniscule _escozor_ was removed, and Cougar opened his eyes blearily. Wondering how far this would go, he turned, facing the counter, and propped himself up on it palms down. His butt stuck out a bit, and he knew that this would make things a lot easier for Jake. He could see what he was doing now, and Cougar would get what he wanted out of it without compromising Jake’s initial request for sex in the kitchen. Though he wasn’t quite sure why his younger lover was so interested in it in the first place. It was a question for a later time.

At Jake’s urging, he popped his ass out a little more, and Jake groaned. “Damn, Cougar, now I know why you like being on top so much. Having you like this is…” he hesitated.

“Intoxicating? Empowering?” Cougar suggested, throwing a look over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Jake agreed with a nod and a smile, and leaned forwards to nuzzle Cougar’s hair. He kissed the smaller man gently, conscious of the awkward angle and how it must be straining Cougar’s neck. “Okay,” he sighed, “Let me know if I’m doing something wrong, or how I can do it better. Deal?”

Turning his head back around, Cougar let the chuckle roll through him, deeply amused. “If you do something wrong, you will know.” He snorted out of his nose.

Jake laughed, and playfully smacked his butt. It didn’t hurt that much, but it was loud and made Cougar jump. “Don’t get smart with me,” he teased.

Cougar wiggled his derriere back and forth in response, and said demandingly, “Hurry up back there.”

A little huff of laughter escaped him, and Jake teased, “Relax, tight-ass.” Sweeping Carlos’ hair aside, he nibbled over the back of Cougar’s neck and licked a slow, wet line right down the other man’s spine. Cougar shivered as Jake blew a cool breath over the saliva, and Jake’s eyes lit up with an inner fire as he watched goosebumps rise on the other man’s arms.

“I am relaxed,” Cougar argued half-heartedly.

“No, you’re not,” Jake scoffed. He set his teeth in the thin skin between Cougar’s shoulder blades, grabbed hold until the other man moaned and his head drooped down towards the marble-patterned Formica countertop. He laved his tongue over the small patch of trapped skin in the confines of his mouth, and released it with a little suck and a pop. “But you will be.” Sliding in the space between Cougar’s hips and the cabinets, Jake grasped his manhood. He kept his touch lighter than Cougar liked and varied the pace of his strokes, which he knew would arouse Cougar but it would also keep him from coming too soon.

Cougar’s only response to Jake after that action was an incoherent noise.

It was only then with Cougar well and truly lost in the sensations that Jake returned to his original task. Keeping his hand on Cougar’s cock, he sought with his free hand the other’s waiting entrance. Sticky fingers slid over the textured skin easily, and Jake found the tip of his middle finger sucked in quickly as the hole fluttered under the light touch. He not only heard Cougar’s quick intake of breath, but felt it as his body tensed up momentarily. Fascinated, Jake began a more thorough exploration of an area of the body that for most of his life he’d considered taboo. Having Cougar at his mercy like that, figuratively speared, was definitely intoxicating though. It was like he’d just discovered a new drug, the thrill, the power-trip, the desire, and the gleeful joy found only in being defiant meeting, colliding within him in a euphoric explosion.

Jake let his finger move a little deeper, wondered at the heat and the tightness. With the unnatural lubrication, it felt startling similar to the insides of a woman. _So this is what Cougar feels when he’s inside of me,_ Jake thought. Curious, he curled his finger up a little, pushed it in as far as he could, and felt the pad rub up against the soft, pliable inner wall. Suddenly, Cougar shook a little and released a sound like nothing Jake had ever heard him make before. His voice dropped into such a low register that Jake was surprised, but it still came out loud—louder than he’d ever heard Cougar before—and clear, full of such wordless want that Jake’s cock leaped in harmony. Warmth settled somewhere in his chest, the glow of pride and something else, as he realized he’d found Cougar’s prostate.

“Por favor,” Cougar grunted, “Más.” _Please, more._

He added another digit at Cougar’s urging, was rewarded with more of those sounds that seemed to spill helplessly from his lover’s throat, and used them to feel out the passage, spreading lubricant as they worked their way around.

“You have to,” Cougar breathed through a spasm as Jake stroked his gland again, bit his lip for a second as the flare of ecstasy settled into something more manageable, something he could function around. “You have to stretch it more. Push the boundaries. Scissoring your fingers helps.”

Jake nodded, then realizing that Cougar couldn’t see him, not turned away as he was and beside that Jake was pretty sure that the other man’s eyes were closed, he breathed, “Okay.” There was a fine tremor running through him all the way down to his buried fingertips as his own need seemed to fold in on itself and then multiply. There was something about this act that had him more turned on than he ever remembered being with a girl. The obvious trust that Cougar had placed in him was touching, and his lover’s vocal enjoyment of the act fanned the flames of his arousal, keeping him hard despite the fact that his dick was for the moment shoved to the back-burner in this dance. That time was all about Cougar.

Suddenly remembering that his other hand was cradling a stiff prick, Jake began his strokes anew, trying to match the rhythms of both hands to something simpatico, like a soprano and an alto singing in harmony. Sometimes he faltered, but Cougar didn’t appear to enjoy it any less if his gasps and strangled moans were any indication.

“Is that good?” he murmured in Cougar’s ear, flicking his tongue against the lobe, and then sliding down over the column of his neck.

“Si,” Cougar groaned, “Es perfecto. Keep going. Más rápido. Add more.” _Yes, it’s perfect. Keep going. Faster. Add more._ His hips thrust into Jake’s fist, his cock sliding easily, slick with its own salty essence. Then he jerked back as Jake pulled out, squeezed a little more lube onto his fingers one-handed—which was a whole lot harder than it seemed; holy hell!—and sent three fingers plunging into Cougar’s anus.

He reacted like he’d been shocked, arching his back with a cry. “Yes,” Cougar hissed as Jake found a new rhythm, this one faster, firmer. Fucking. He was most definitely fucking Cougar with his fingers now. With a guttural sound, Cougar worked himself back on Jake’s fingers with single-minded intensity. The thrusts were hitting his sweet spot pretty regularly, and that combined with the firm grip on his cock and the familiar stimulation had the hot desire in his gut churning, swirling, coalescing into a burning ball, a supernova ready to explode. Cougar drew a breath to warn Jake and found it stolen as another burst of pleasure obliterated his thoughts.

Seeing Cougar like that, literally incoherent with desire, had Jake so turned on he couldn’t believe it. He felt like he was right there with Cougar, feeling what the other man experienced, reliving his own memories of similar occasions. Breathless and excited, Jake trailed open-mouthed kisses down Cougar’s back, drinking in the heave of his lungs working, the muffled vibration of his cries. Then Cougar groaned out between clenched teeth, “I’m close,” and Jake’s only thought became fixated on making Carlos orgasm, taking his pleasure where it wanted to go, right up and over the edge. “So come for me,” Jake replied, and kicked up his torment another notch, doing away with all the foreplay. He shifted into the rhythm that Cougar preferred on his dick, the one that would bring him to an intense climax quickly, and worked his fingers in that dark, moistened cavern with a greater sense of purpose.

“But you…” Cougar stuttered and trailed off, hissing through his teeth as he felt his orgasm rising, the tip of his engorged member tingling.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jake stated, “I want you to come.” He nibbled on the back of Cougar’s neck and then sucked hard, leaving another mark that would darken and take up temporary residence there.

Shuddering, lungs seizing up, Cougar tipped his head back in a wordless scream as that one action tipped the scales and ecstasy barreled through him, destroying and remaking his world in the span of a mere moment.

Jake caught his breath as Cougar’s body jerked and froze simultaneously, as hot pulses shot from the tip of his dick once, twice, and a third waning stream as his reservoir was depleted.

Arms shaking, Cougar let his upper body slump onto the counter top. His knees wobbled as reality came back in stuttered awareness and fractals behind his eyelids. “Shit,” he breathed out as he simultaneously became aware of the stupid grin on his face. Laughter bubbled up inside of him and came out in lazy chuckles. He felt Jake’s fingers within him as he did so, and the sensation was almost too much too soon. He stopped with a groan and a shiver.

Like he already knew what Cougar was going to ask, Jake anticipated his sensitivity and gently withdrew his sticky digits, and uncurled his fingers from his lover’s slowly flagging erection.

Cougar sighed, feeling mixed emotions of loss and relief. When he felt a little calmer, a little more settled in his skin instead of floating up on the ceiling, he turned around and let himself rest against the cabinetry as he reached for Jake. His companion acquiesced easily, sliding into Cougar’s arms and looping his own around the smaller man. Cougar’s head found Jake’s shoulder, and he turned his face into the groove where Jake’s neck sloped into his muscular shoulder, breathing in the warm, earthy scent of him. “Gracias,” he murmured.

“My pleasure,” Jake responded, and Cougar smiled as Jake kissed the top of his ear.

_Part Nineteen_

His bones were jelly, his body filled up with post-coital lassitude. Cougar sighed and kissed the patch of skin nearest to his lips as he leaned against Jake.

He’d fed. Of course, he had. It was impossible not to. Granted, for a full feeding he needed his partner’s orgasm, but he could also gain energy simply through the metaphysical connection that formed between them when they were in the throes. Not as much, but enough. His parasitic magic reached out a clawed hand and tangled with his partner’s own aura, tying them together in a bond of lust for those moments. He knew that it allowed for minor shared sensations—Cougar always felt his bedmate’s emotions more acutely then, like an echo called from the opening of a cave or a voice on the paper telephones he’d played with as a child. The line, of course, went both ways, so he knew that Jake had felt some of his emotions throughout the encounter as well. Everyone did. Most people just weren’t sensitive enough to notice it. They confused the feelings for their own, though really they had no reason to believe otherwise. A lot of people didn’t believe in magic, so why would they?

Jake’s unsatisfied need buzzed on the edge of his consciousness. Shifting, Cougar began to toy with his companion’s earlobe, flicking it gently with his tongue then drawing it between his lips for a little suck and tender nibble. He was rewarded with a little whine in the back of Jake’s throat.

“Cougs,” Jake licked his lips, “You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s not tit for tat, remember?”

“I remember,” Cougar husked and chuckled, “Pero quiero.” _But I want to_. It was also a matter of politeness in a strange way. He could feel Jake’s arousal, vibrating, tingling at the edge of his mind in a place where he couldn’t see it. It snapped and sparked like a candle flame. Letting it die out unsatisfied seemed almost cruel, not to mention a waste of good food.

His mama had taught him better than that.

Raising his lethargic head up, Cougar slid one hand up Jake’s spine to cup his neck and urged him to tilt his head down with subtle but insistent pressure. He kissed Jake, brushing their lips together softly. Both of their mouths were swollen from earlier, so it didn’t take much force to feel the stimuli. Licking Jake’s abused lips, Cougar pulled back just enough to murmur, “You have a beautiful mouth.”

Jake laughed quietly. “Thanks? It does the job, I guess. I don’t know if I’d call it beautiful. It gets kind of annoying when it won’t stop yapping, or so I’ve been told.” A blush began to creep up the pale skin of his neck.

Cougar glided his lips over Jake’s once again in an undemanding, open-mouthed caress, smothering his urge to smirk at the other’s antics. “It is beautiful even when it is yapping. Trust me, I am a good judge of these things.”

“Heh, th—“ He was cut off as Cougar dipped his tongue in Jake’s mouth, flicking over the embarrassed man’s appendage in an invitation for more. Jake hummed in pleasure and sealed their mouths together, letting the slick muscles vie for dominance. He surrendered when Cougar made an ‘o’ with his mouth and sucked on his tongue, closing his eyes at the sensation. Then his lover dove in, taking over, and turning Jake’s world inside out so that all his perception narrowed in on the hot, wet tango taking place within his mouth.

Cougar swallowed Jake’s moan and dropped his hand to the younger man’s firm backside, cupping one cheek in his palm, and giving it a squeeze. He broke the kiss when he felt breathless, and knew that Jake had to be feeling the same, starved for fresh oxygen not sucked in from the nose in the space between their faces, the air hot and thin, and mostly carbon dioxide. As Jake gulped in fresh air, Cougar’s lips trailed lower and lower, kissing over his lover’s neck and toned pectorals, then down his abdomen, sinking to his knees as he went. He licked the prominent ‘V’ of Jake’s hipbones, then turned, rubbing his cheek against the full, flushed length standing proudly between Jake’s muscular, lightly furred legs.

“Ah!” Jake gasped, and flung a hand out as his body trembled at the feel of Cougar’s barely-there stubble and smooth skin sliding against the sensitive flesh of his dick. It slapped onto the countertop with a meaty thwack, but he didn’t feel any pain from it, just a light sting that somehow added to his internal inferno. His fingers dove into Cougar’s hair, pulling it back so he could watch with rapt attention as Cougar licked carefully and methodically at his cock from root to tip like he was working a Popsicle in the summertime. “Cougar, please, god, please, don’t be a tease,” he begged as proof of his excitement welled up in the slit. His blue eyes looked wild, electric when Cougar glanced up and locked gazes with Jake as he flicked his tongue out to catch that single drop.

He savored it, rolled the flavor around in his mouth until it dissipated, mixed up like a solvent with his saliva.

Jake’s mouth formed a shiny, reddened ‘o’ as he licked his lips and his jaw dropped open at the sight.

Cougar wrapped his hand around the shaft, pumping experimentally, and Jake’s hips thrust toward him. He licked the cockhead again, swirling his tongue around the tip, leaving a thick trail of saliva behind. That time he was pleased to note the low, heartfelt groan spill from Jake’s throat.  He smiled as he kissed the base of Jake’s cock and ran his tongue over the subtle divide between his balls. The fingers in his hair tightened almost painfully until Jake swore under his breath and made himself relax his grip.

“Sorry,” Jake apologized and soothed the abused scalp with a gentle touch.

Shrugging, Cougar replied, “No big deal.” Then he opened his mouth wide and took the tender sac in, sucking gently, and running his tongue over the tightened skin.

“Cougar!” Jake shouted, trying not to tense his hand up again, “Oh, Jesus.” He hissed as that evil, mischievous mouth made its way up again, Cougar’s tongue taking the lead and trailing from one end to the top once again. The next thing he knew the tip of his cock had disappeared in that dark cavern and Cougar’s cheeks hollowed as more and more of his length followed it. Breathing heavily, Jake fought against the warm, enticing tingle in his balls, and the urge to close his eyes and revel. He had to watch this, had to remember it: the way Cougar’s pupils seemed blown out, expanded with desire, how his eyelids fluttered down, thick, dark lashes laying on his cheeks in sideways crescent moons; the sight of Cougar’s bee-stung lips wrapped around his turgid member; the feel of his mouth—hot, wet, tight—and the slide of his tongue. “Shit,” Jake whispered to himself as he felt the tip of his dick meet the back of Cougar’s throat. He swallowed, constricting tightly around Jake’s penis for a moment, and then relaxed, coming back up to catch a breath.

Cougar opened his eyes just wide enough to catch the frantic look on his lover’s face. He could feel Jake’s emotions, sure, but seeing it was a pleasure of a different sort. He bobbed his head back down, slowly, painstakingly swallowing the entire length once more. Cougar was thankful that he’d been born without a gag reflex, particularly at times like these. His throat tightened again, the walls of his esophagus adding massage to the vacuum of his mouth, and he came back up, releasing Jake’s cock with a loud pop. It glistened in the bright mid-day light, and for a second Cougar actually found himself smiling at the sight. He took stock of the condition of his throat, deciding that he could probably deep-throat Jake once more without any lingering soreness.

He pressed his lips to the ridged skin just where the bulbous tip met the shaft and kissed it with his mouth parted, applying the tiniest amount of suction just there.

Jake shuddered hard and whined. “Carlos,” he breathed out, looking down.

Glancing up, Cougar slipped Jake’s dick in his mouth again, sucking hard. Jake’s fingers clenched in his hair, but in his state of awareness, caught up as he was in Jake’s emotional storm, Cougar barely noticed the pain of it. In fact, he felt his dick give a valiant effort toward stiffening once more. He blocked off his magic from that part of himself, wanting to wrap this up soon. His stomach was twisting with something other than desire, making its demands heard.

Jake just managed to get out a snicker before Carlos took him all the way in fast and hard. The noise turned into a choked cry as Cougar sucked and swallowed and laved the underside of his dick with his tongue. A callused hand cupped his sac, massaging it intermittently—first a little roughly, then barely there, and finally somewhere in between that was guaranteed to get him off expediently. He felt his balls jerk and managed to squeeze out, “Cougs,” before his body emptied itself of all its pent-up juices. He came and came, and felt like he’d never need to come again, like Cougar was sucking all the jizz right out of him forever.

When he managed to open his clenched eyes, Cougar was watching him.

He was still on his knees on the floor, feeling rather proud of his handiwork. Jake was flushed and dazed, and his fingers trembled as he released Carlos’ hair, and sank to the linoleum. Cougar watched his chest heave as he raced to catch his breath, and smiled at the sight.

Jake’s brow furrowed and he asked with his voice awash in confusion, “What?”

Cougar simply shrugged, and raised his hand to brush Jake’s hair away from the sweat beading around his hairline, then trailed down to run his thumb along a prominent cheekbone as he leaned in, placing his lips on Jake’s cheek in a chaste gesture of affection.

Sighing, Jake pulled him close and returned the kiss, and then demanded one on his pouting lips. He smiled when Carlos acquiesced with a fond huff of laughter. “So…” Jake began.

“So?”

He licked his lips. “You wanna raid the fridge and go pig out in my room?”

Laughing so hard that his eyes crinkled up at the corners with crow’s feet, Cougar nodded his head.

They both clambered up onto their feet, and for the first time Cougar took stock of the condition of the room. His boots lay tipped over in front of the kitchen sink. One sock was by the fridge while the other was all the way across the room lying on the kitchen table. His hat rested peacefully next to it, where he’d placed it upon entering. His blue t-shirt was on the kitchen counter by the microwave, and both his and Jake’s bottoms lay in a contrasting pile of dark and light in the middle of the room. He started chuckling again.

“What?” Jake looked around, then noticed where Cougar’s gaze was fixed. “Oh, ha, I guess we made a bit of mess, didn’t we?”

Turning, Carlos gestured pointedly to the cum staining the cabinet door. “A bit?” he snickered.

Flushing, Jake shrugged, and then he too started laughing. “Oh man,” he wheezed, “I gotta clean that before it dries.” He grabbed a few sheets of paper towel off the roll and wet it under the faucet for a second. Still grinning, he started wiping up the cabinet door. “Why don’t you poke around, see what you want to eat?”

“Okay,” Cougar agreed with a slanted look at Jake. As he strolled over to the refrigerator, he landed a sharp smack on his lover’s firm ass, taking advantage of his bent over position.

Jake jumped and yelped. “Carlos,” he growled in a warning tone.

The answering look he got was unrepentant, then the refrigerator door opened and Cougar very nearly disappear as he bent over to peer at the contents. “Not much here,” he murmured teasingly.

“Hey,” Jake said, tossing the paper towels in the trash can, “We have all the essentials.”

“Beer, water, and Mountain Dew?” Cougar snorted disparagingly, then winked at Jake over the top of the door so that he knew Cougar was just joking.

“There’s more than that,” Jake replied, “Isn’t there?”

“Si,” Cougar chuckled, “Frijoles, tortillas, eggs…I think that’s a tomato, but it looks strange. Don’t eat that. I see cheese, and leftovers that say ‘Nicki’s: Touch and Die’…and another box that says ‘This box contains slab o’ cow. Open in case of food-mergency.’ There is a drawing of a cow on it too, I think, in crayon. Your friend is quite the artist.”

Jake laughed and went to lean in over Cougar’s shoulder. “Oh my god, it looks like a balloon animal. It’s a balloon-cow. See, you totally grab his butt-stringy--”

“I think that is supposed to be a tail,” Cougar remarked mildly.

“—and tug him along. And what are those supposed to be, legs? Those skinny little twigs will hardly support his body mass, let alone allow him to move.” Both men stared at it another moment and snickered. “God, she’s a bad artist. What does that say on the side?”

“’One teqila, two tehkeylah, three tequila…cow pie!’” Cougar read, pronouncing it carefully so he’d get all the spelling mistakes just right. “She does know that’s shit, yes?”

Jake snorted. “Normally. Anyway, what else do we have? Let’s just take a peek in here…” he murmured and reached around Cougar, grabbing the box marked as Nicki’s, and flipping open the lid. “This looks like the remnants of fajitas. We could heat this up, chop up the hamburger, and roll it up in tortillas with some cheese.”

“Delicioso,” Cougar replied cheekily. _Delicious._

“Fuckin’ gourmet. You better believe it,” Jake shot back, and pulled the other box out of the fridge.

Cougar reached in for the tortillas and cheese, and placed them on the counter next to where Jake was busy emptying out the containers onto a microwaveable plate. “Hey, cool,” Jake said in wonderment, “What do you know ‘slab o’ cow’ means steak. Sweet. Faye gets a cookie for sharing this voluntarily…or she would if I had any cookies.”

“And Nicki?” Cougar asked with a grin.

“The gremlins must have gotten in the fridge,” Jake replied with mock-seriousness. “We should probably throw some stuff around to make it look convincing.” The blue eyed man scanned the room again. “On second thought, maybe we should just pick up our clothes. With any luck she’ll come back happily buzzed and will have forgotten about her food.” He slid the plate in the microwave and hit a couple buttons, turning the timer on. For a second he watched it spin around inside, then he turned to Cougar and said, “Seriously, I’ll never hear the end of it if they come home and our clothes are lying all over the place.” Jake made a face, sticking out his tongue. “Girls,” he said disgustedly, “They’re such gossips.”

Chuckling, Cougar replied, “Okay, so we pick up our things. You…heat. I will clean.” Padding away, oblivious to the subtle sway of his hips and his own nudity, Carlos picked up the articles of clothing off the kitchen floor, and counter, and table. When his arms were full, he carried everything back into Jake’s room and dumped it on the unused second bed. As far as he was concerned, that was clean enough. Returning to the kitchen, he found Jake pulling a plate of warmed tortillas from the microwave.

“Look,” the young man called, “I found cinnamon and sugar, and honey. It’s dessert! Win!” He beamed at Cougar, and the older man had no choice but to smile back. Jake’s grin was infectious.

“Yum,” Carlos purred, sneaking up behind Jake to run the edge of his teeth over the back of his companion’s neck. “And what do we eat it on? Each other?” There was a thread of humor in his voice, but he was more than half-serious. Cougar heard Jake gulp, and squeak out, “Tortillas, man. We got tortillas.”

“Ah,” the Hispanic man replied, “Veo.” _I see._ A thought struck him then. “Do you want to lick honey off of me?” he teased, whispering into Jake’s ear.

Groaning, Jake replied, “Give me a couple minutes, then yes. Cocktease.”

“It’s only a tease if…”

“You don’t intend to follow through,” Jake completed with a smile. He turned and caught Cougar’s lips with his own in a quick peck. “Now, shoo. Grab a plate and let’s go eat.”

“In bed?”

“In bed,” Jake agreed.

“Then siesta?” Cougar wondered.

Shrugging, Jake said, “If you need to, but I gotta tell you that I can’t sleep right now. Too much energy.”

At that Cougar leered suggestively. “I can fix that,” he purred, and Jake shivered but stepped away pointedly.

“Food first,” he said, and Cougar’s stomach chose that instant to voice its opinion again, aroused by the smell of food. Apparently it agreed with Jake.

Grabbing the plate with the tortillas on it, Carlos stuck the little bottle of cinnamon-sugar mix in the crook of his arm as well as the honey. He raised an eyebrow when Jake pulled two bottles of beer out from the fridge.

Jake smiled mischievously. “It’s five o’ clock somewhere. Besides, it’s either this or Mountain Dew. I want something with flavor to it.”

Lifting his shoulder in a Gallic shrug, Cougar just nodded his acceptance. He didn’t care if they had a beer or two with their meal. Lots of people did south of the border.

Picking up the other plate that was laden with two large burritos, Jake led the way back into the bedroom. They settled cross-legged on the bed, and Jake put down the plate, reaching for the remote. He turned the small TV on out of habit, but kept the volume low. “Voila,” Jake flourished his hand, “I give to you…fajita-burritos! They’re delicious _and_ portable.”

After a skeptical look, Cougar picked up the smaller of the two and took a bite off the corner. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and glanced over at Jake, who was already two bites ahead of him. With a small smile, Carlos acknowledged, “Not bad.”

“See?” Jake mumbled with his mouth full, “I’m a master at making do. Trust me.” He chewed for awhile, then swallowed and reached for the beers he’d set on the nightstand. Twisting one cap off, he offered the bottle to Cougar, who took it and rested it against his thigh between his crossed legs.  Repeating the same procedure with his beer, Jake took a sip from the bottle and then set it back on the nightstand. As he reached for his fajita-burrito again, Cougar asked, “So why sex in the kitchen?” The partially chewed bite was almost choked on. “What?” Jake asked when he’d cleared his throat and swallowed his food, “Well…why not?”

Cougar smirked. “That is not an answer.” He took another bite off of his burrito-fajita amalgamation, and waited for Jake’s answer.

His companion squirmed, then shrugged his broad shoulders. “There’s just something about doing it where you’re not supposed to,” Jake admitted, “I mean, the kitchen? That’s where people eat, not where they fuck, but you turn that around and…”

“The thrill of the forbidden,” Carlos said after he swallowed. He lifted the longneck bottle to his lips and tipped it back for a generous drink, feeling Jake’s eyes on him as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Cougar replaced the beverage in between his legs and glanced up at Jake.

The young man licked his lips, cleared his throat, and finally stated, “Yeah. Much more eloquently said.”

“Simplified,” Cougar countered, “I am good at paring down words to the necessities.”

Jake nodded and they slipped into silence as they concentrated on eating for a bit. Then a thought seemed to occur to Jake and he blurted out, “Why do you ask? Did you not like it?” He seemed nervous, the expression on his face pinched with worry.

Carlos grinned. “I think we can both agree that I enjoyed myself,” he soothed. “I was just curious.”

“Oh,” Jake replied, the relief in him evident everywhere from tone to posture.

“Jake,” Cougar reached out and touched his forearm, “I would not have gone along with it if I was not…into it. I liked it.” Smiling, he squeezed Jake’s arm underneath his hand lightly, and Jake looked up from his plate, smiling back.

“Well, good,” the college student stated, “Otherwise I’d kick your ass.” He grinned, showing that he meant it only in jest.

Cougar widened his eyes dramatically. “Why would you do that? If it is bruised and hurting, I cannot let you fuck it.”

Jake froze, staring at the Hispanic man, and then he started to laugh. “Oh man,” he broke off to chortle some more, then quelled his mirth enough to wheeze, “You had me going, Cougs. You’re funny.” He wiped away tears at the corners of his eyes.

He waited until Jake had quieted, eating peaceably until just the right moment. After his friend had returned to his food, Cougar asked mildly, “Why do you think I was joking?”

Sputtering, the young man set down the last two bites of his food. “’Cause you’re well…you’re… _you_. I mean, you’re like super hot and all suave and shit, and I know you like pussy, dude. I know you do.”

“And that excludes me from having sex with men?” Carlos wondered.

“Well, no!” Jake’s voice went up an octave. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, clearly you’re having sex with me, but it’s…different.”

“Because you have been on the bottom?”

“Yes!”

“So that makes it less gay for me because I fuck you like a woman?”

“Yes—No—I—what? Goddammit, Cougar!” Jake ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. Stop fucking with my head.”

“It’s what you said,” Carlos responded, casually taking a sip of beer. As strange as the turn in conversation was, he found himself enjoying it a little. It was nice to hear what Jake thought about all this. A lot of it echoed his own confusion as a teenager, and Carlos realized that he had inadvertently sent Jake’s life into a tailspin that maybe he wasn’t ready for. There seemed to be a lot of conflicting thoughts and feelings boiling under the surface of his mind. Then again, he supposed that the first time he’d been with a man had been much the same. He’d had to completely rethink his world view. It had been a difficult and confusing time for him.

“Yeah, well, that’s not what I meant. Obviously letting you…fuck me up the ass doesn’t make me any less of a man. It’s not like I’m going to up and grow a vagina,” Jake muttered. He looked Carlos in the eyes, and the Hispanic man’s heart went out to him upon seeing the turmoil reflected in his stormy blue eyes. “But you’re different from me. There’s…you seem like such a man’s man. I am…not.”

Picking at the label on the longneck, Carlos asked Jake frankly, “You like how you feel when we fuck, yes?”

Jake nodded hesitantly.

“Then ask yourself why I would enjoy it any less. Same parts,” Cougar noted, “And I have had a lot longer than you to experiment. Just because I am a different kind of man from you—quieter, introverted—does not make me any less inclined to bottom. Being a ‘man’s man’ has nothing to do with my biological responses. If you wanted to fuck me, I would let you. Food for thought.” With that, he returned to eating the last of his burrito.

For a long while Jake was unusually silent. He finished up the last of his burrito, chewing slowly, and took pulls off of his beer with his brow furrowed with concentration.

Cougar was reaching for the still-warm plate of tortillas when Jake said quietly, “I guess I have a lot of stuff to think about.”

Shrugging, he replied, “I would not expect you to have it all sorted out in a day. You have spent your life living as a straight man. It is going to take time to cast aside the preconceived notions that the heterosexual world has taught you. Right now you are confused because according to hetero society, I am a man, a _masculine_ man, and masculine men do not let other men stick dicks up their asses. However, that is a very limited world view. Allowing you to come into me does not affect my machismo, it only adds to my pleasure. You will learn that people are not always as they appear. Sometimes the biggest, toughest men are the ones who only want to bottom, and the most effeminate are the best tops.”

Jake sighed and reached for a tortilla, rolling those words around in his head.

Cougar took his as well, drizzling a little honey on it, and tapping the slightest amount of cinnamon-sugar over it. Then he folded it over, and took a bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue. He wanted to smile. It was a good dessert, and a clever idea on Jake’s part. He watched his younger lover do the same, and again he ate it the same way—slowly, thoughtfully, distractedly. Carlos could see him thinking hard. It was a little painful to watch. He wanted to be able to comfort Jake somehow, to smooth this transition, but the only experience he had in the area was tangled closely with his incubus abilities. It was hard to reveal one without revealing the other, and Cougar was afraid that if he started talking, he wouldn’t stop. Something would slip, and then Jake would run or push him away. He was only in Mazatlan for another day; Cougar didn’t want to spoil the last of his time there. From that point on all Jake would remember was the nutcase who took his virginity.

 _Si, definitely keeping the incubo tale under wraps_.

Jake was still young. There was ample time for him to reconcile what he was taught with what his body desired, and come to some sort of balance between the two. Human sexuality was much more complex than just preferring vag or dick. Cougar was confident that Jake would figure it all out eventually.

Carlos finished his tortilla, and sat back against the headboard, crossing one tanned ankle over the opposite knee. He was still nude, but he didn’t mind. He was comfortable in his skin, and apparently Jake was too distracted with his internal happenings to notice his own nudity. Cougar enjoyed the view despite the somber aura in the room. Biology couldn’t let him do anything but.

The silence grew heavier as Jake finished his tortilla and made his way through another one, eating his feelings.

Carlos knew he needed to do something to get him out of that mindset, so he said the first thing that came to mind. “I was a Philosophy major, you know,” he stated.

Blue eyes flicked up to his, and Jake cocked his head bemusedly to the side.

“In college,” Carlos clarified.

Raising his eyebrows, Jake asked, “You went to college?”

The Hispanic man snorted and replied, “Si.”

“So you didn’t always want to be a bartender?” the blond haired man replied with the birth of a smile on his face.

Shaking his head emphatically, Carlos said, “No. I wanted to be a teacher.”

“So what happened?” Jake queried, “I mean, obviously you’re not. Why the change?”

“I double-majored in History and Philosophy, and I finished my Bachelor’s for both when I was twenty-three. There was a lot happening in my life then. I wanted a break…so I left, and came to Mazatlan. I always thought I would go back, I just never did.”

“Why not?” Intrigued, Jake scooted around until he was facing Carlos.

Cougar shrugged and took another pull off the beer he’d been nursing since the start of the meal. “I didn’t want to leave. I’m comfortable here. The original plan though was to get my adult educator’s degree, which at the time was only a two-year program, and teach part-time at a community college while I did the longer education program so that I could eventually make the move to teaching at a university level. But I got settled in here and just…never went home. I’ve visited a few times in the past couple years, but every time I go home I am struck with the bittersweet urge to hug my family and flee all at once.”

“Why?” Jake asked. He was leaning forward now with his elbows on his knees. This was the most he’d gotten out of Cougar since they’d met about his life.

At that, Carlos looked up and seemed to shy away from the question. The why was complicated, and far too personal a tale. He shook his head and told his friend, “That, amigo, is private.” As Jake began to blush with embarrassment at having been rebuffed, Carlos added, “No offense to you. Just…there are things I would rather not talk about. I love my family, but let’s just say they drive me a little crazy.”

Nodding, Jake drawled, “Okay. Then at least answer me this: why philosophy? You don’t seem like a philosophical sort of guy.”

Cougar laughed. “Not much anymore, no,” he agreed. “At the time I was going through a lot of changes. I needed to learn how to think for myself. The philosophy classes helped me do that. Before I knew it my advisor was telling me that I should just declare it my major since I’d already taken over half the requirements. History was my original major, but by the time I declared Philosophy, I’d taken too many credits in that field that wouldn’t transfer to a Philosophy degree. So then I double majored because it only added an extra semester for me. It was the least waste of money.”

Contemplative for a second, the bespectacled man then asked carefully, “Not that I’m uninterested, but why are you telling me this?”

Clearing his throat, Carlos tried to put his thoughts in order. He peeled the label all the way off the beer bottle and laid it on the bedside table. He licked his lips, and used his right thumb nail to pick at the skin on the side of the nail bed of the left. Finally, he said, “In high school, I was very popular. Well known. Infamous, really, for…getting a lot of play. When I was seventeen, I realized that I liked men too. It was hard for me to accept at first. My family…well, being gay was never talked about, and I do not even know if mis padres know what ‘bisexual’ means. I had no one to talk to. When high school ended, I decided that I needed to figure out who I was outside of my reputation, and labels, and other things. I needed a change. Philosophy provided an environment for me to do that. Perhaps you need to find your environment, your safe space for you to pull away and be at peace within your own mind. Not necessarily a philosophy class, but something.” Looking up from his hands, Carlos said, “I know how it feels fighting a war within yourself.”

Swallowing convulsively, Jake managed to respond with a strangled, “thanks.” He was about to say more, but there was a stinging behind his eyes and a pressure in his throat closing his windpipe. Whipping off his glasses with one hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrubbed his free hand over his eyes. When he thought he’d wrestled the urge to cry back down into submission, he looked back up, and said, “Thank you. That’s really good advice.”

Cougar just shrugged his shoulder and offered a miniscule smile.

A moment laden with something new and fragile passed between them.

Carlos patted the bed up next to him. “Come here,” he requested.

Jake scooted closer as Cougar moved all the detritus from their meal.

He tapped the mattress again when the blond man stopped a few feet away.

With a reluctant smile turning up the edges of his mouth, Jake put his back up against the headboard next to Cougar. He tossed his glasses carelessly onto the nightstand.

Cougar’s arm looped around his back, pulling him in closer until their bare hips touched.

Jake sighed, but he still had that grudging grin on his face.

Carlos kept up the half-hug until the tension seemed to drain from the younger man, and Jake slumped against him, his head finding Carlos’ shoulder. He turned slightly to find a more comfortable position, and Cougar wrapped his other arm around Jake’s waist.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Jake mumbled into Carlos’ shoulder, “We’re cuddling.”

“Si,” he agreed with a little grin of his own.

“I love to cuddle,” Jake breathed out, and slipped his arm over Carlos’ waist in a return of the gesture.

“Si, I know.”

They sat there together, just holding each other, arms entangled, Jake’s warm breaths puffing out over Cougar’s chest. The television was the only sound in the room aside from their breathing, a low murmur of soothing background noise. When he noticed Jake’s eyelashes opening and closing in very long blinks, Cougar asked, “So can I talk you into a siesta now?”

Jake snorted, but replied with an affirmative nod.

The two of them climbed under the covers, and went back to cuddling in a fully reclined position. It didn’t take long until Jake nodded off, exhausted by his tumultuous emotions, and Carlos followed soon after once he was sure that his companion was most definitely out cold for the time being. Cougar was tired. It was the kind of tiredness that slipped under the cracks no matter how much sleep he may have gotten the night before, the kind that snuck up and slapped him in the face when he thought about just how much he had left to do in a day. There was Jake—he wanted to take him out later on after the worst sun of the day had faded, show him Mazatlan at night away from the clubs—and then he still had a full night’s left of work to do. The stolen energy buzzed inside of him, but he closed his eyes resolutely. _Save it_ , he told himself, _you’ll need it later_.

When his eyes opened again, he found Jake propped up on his side staring at him. Cougar grumped and closed his eyes again.

Jake chuckled. “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he sing-songed.

A teasing hand drifted up Cougar’s ribcage and he flinched at the ticklish sensation. “Hn,” he grunted and went to push the hand away from his sensitive spot.

“You’re cute when you wake up,” his young paramour announced gleefully, “And when you sleep. You’re like a grumpy little kid who doesn’t want to wake up for school in the morning.”

Cougar’s eyes slitted open just wide enough to glare out balefully at the cheerful, blond menace. To say that Carlos was not a morning person wasn’t accurate. He was not a waking-up person. The time of day was irrelevant. He came back to awareness with all the grace of an angry bear disturbed during hibernation.

Jake hid his smile behind his hand, muffling the sound of his chuckles but not diminishing them completely. The mirth burst forth anyway in the crinkle of his eyes, and the movement of his chest and shoulders with every chortle.

Feeling as though he was being laughed at, Cougar took action. Reaching out, he casually batted Jake’s hand away from his mouth and replaced it with his lips. He kissed Jake, and had the pleasure of hearing those giggles-at-his-expense stutter to a halt. Fingertips slid under his chin as he kissed his energetic friend. “Feeling better, I see,” Cougar murmured when their lips parted.

“Mm,” Jake agreed wordlessly, and rubbed his nose across Carlos’. He was smiling again.

Sensing that the moment was right, Cougar said to him, “Does this mean you will fuck me in the shower now?”

Drawing back minutely only to ascertain the seriousness of Cougar’s words, Jake studied him for a second, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said out loud, because once he said it out loud there was no way he could go back on it no matter how his nerves tried to undermine his decision. He’d always been that way, diving in head first despite not knowing where the bottom of the pool was.

“Yay,” Cougar stated, his voice completely even keel, no inflection but for the barest hint of joy. He rolled onto his back, but turned his head to keep his lover in sight. “Vamanos?” _Let’s go?_

_Part Twenty_

He was kind of shocked that Cougar even suggested it; shocked, aroused, intrigued. The emotions fired through him in quick succession as he lay there, propped up on one arm, staring into rich brown eyes aglow in the light of the setting sun that crept through the window. When he’d teasingly suggested sex in the shower at Cougar’s apartment, he’d still been under the impression that it was himself who’d be on the bottom. Looking at it from a more logical perspective, Jake realized that it made more sense for Cougar to do so. Physically, he was a little smaller, lighter. If they wanted to do full penetration, one of them would either have to bend over or be lifted up. With the physics of shower-sex in mind, Jake acknowledged that it would be easier for him to support Cougar rather than the opposite. Focusing back in on reality, Jake locked gazes with Cougar across the inches that separated them.

Cougar looked languid, like some kind of Aztec god reclining, basking in the heat of his own triumph. Yet there was still the potential there for more, as though it would only take a flicker of thought and he would be ready once more for wild orgies and virgin sacrifices. His dark hair had escaped the confines of its holder, and it frothed around his head and neck, trailed over the white sheets in curlicues, a modern contrast painting in his bed. Golden fingertips were dancing across the miniscule space between their bodies, walking over Jake’s skin. He shivered as they lightly touched his sensitive skin there on his waist, and felt his mood tipping toward desire again.

An hour and a half ago they’d gotten each other off, and Cougar was giving him come-hither motions again. The man was insatiable. Not that Jake minded, especially not when the other man brushed their kiss-swollen lips together in a soft, wet caress that drew a breathy sound from him. The touch of Cougar’s tongue was almost tentative, sweet, and when his Hispanic lover pulled away with a gentle smile, Jake knew he was game for whatever Cougar wanted to play.

“Okay,” Jake drawled, his voice slurring like a drunkard. Then again he was kind of drunk on lust. “Let’s go take a shower.”

That low chuckle spilled out of Cougar, the one that just grabbed him by the balls, and made him sit up and take note. Jake smiled and followed as his sinuous lover slithered off the mattress, heading for the bedroom door. All Jake could think was to thank his lucky stars that his roommates were gone. On their way out, Cougar swiped the lube off of the pile of clothes and grabbed one of the little foil-wrapped condoms for good measure.

Jake followed the tight, muscular backside wiggling before him like a dog on a leash. Not that Cougar wiggled when he walked. No, that implied haste. He had this long, easy stride with a bit of a swagger to it. He hadn’t really paid attention to it prior to that day, and wasn’t that just a damn shame? It was the jeans’ fault. They obscured the view of that luscious ass. His eyes fixated on it wonderingly. All of the sudden he was looking at Cougar’s butt in a very different light. His cock was going to go in there. The thought was met with a little disbelief. Hm.

He realized he was staring when Cougar stopped at the bathroom door and shot an amused look over his shoulder. Jake flushed and wished not for the first time that he wasn’t so pale-skinned. However, the Hispanic man disappeared into the bathroom without a single comment. The water started up almost immediately as Jake pulled a couple towels from the linen closet and followed behind. As he hung them neatly on the towel bar, Cougar waved him over. “Come feel,” the other man instructed, and Jake obligingly ran his hands up and down Cougar’s back, then wrapped them around his waist. “Feels good to me,” he chirped impishly, and rubbed his cheek over dark locks, his stubble catching slightly on the strands.

Cougar chuckled and writhed up against him, using his whole body to caress over most of their skin. “Not me, the water. Is the temperature okay?”

“I know,” Jake teased, and held out a hand to test it. “A little cooler. I’d hate to run out of hot water, wouldn’t you?”

Wordlessly, Cougar adjusted the knobs, and when the stream was just perfect he shimmied—yes, Cougar could and did shimmy; Jake was impressed--out of Jake’s grasp so he could step in. He ducked his head under the spray, and it made quick work of plastering his hair to his head, flattening his curls and giving them the appearance of black satin. He ran his hands over the sodden mass, ironing out the little snags and tangles until it hung straight down almost to the middle of his back.

Jake stepped into the tub behind Cougar and gave into the irresistible temptation to glide his own fingers over his lover’s long hair starting from the crown of his head and tracing a path over his spine until he reached the end of the strands and slipped onto the skin. “Your hair is so long,” Jake murmured.

“It is?” Carlos glanced over his shoulder like he was trying to gauge its length. “I suppose I don’t notice it most of the time. Do you think I should cut it?”

“No!” Jake shouted without a second thought, then realizing how dumb that sounded, smacked himself in the forehead and continued in a calmer tone, “I mean, it’s nice the way it is. It suits you.”

“Oh, okay,” Cougar replied, but the effect was ruined when he snickered a bit. “You’re so funny,” he murmured, and playfully tapped Jake’s wrist. Still smiling, Carlos reached for the shampoo. It was the luxurious, expensive stuff that Nicki used, the stuff that smelled a little like chocolate, and was only sold in salons.  She’d be royally pissed if they used too much, but Jake was pretty sure that she didn’t measure the contents of the bottle after each use. Chances were she wouldn’t even notice. In any case, it was worth possibly getting in trouble if it meant that Cougar was going to crawl in his bed smelling like chocolate. He could just imagine the scent getting stronger as he turned Cougar on. Maybe he’d…maybe he’d go down on his Hispanic lover; watch him dig his head into the pillows. The smell would linger there, embedded in the pillowcase fibers until they returned the rental keys and the maids came to clean up.

When Cougar turned to rinse out his hair, Jake finally found his way out of his daydreams, faced with the current, daunting reality. “So,” he began, “How exactly do you want to do this?” He chewed on his lower lip nervously until Cougar’s spiky eyelashes lifted and dark brown irises studied him.

“First,” Cougar began as he reached for the conditioner, “I finish this. Then…you turn around.”

“What? Oh,” Jake sighed, relieved and disappointed all at once, assuming that Cougar had changed his mind. “Okay,” he agreed, turning once the other man had finished pulling the thick conditioner through his hair. He braced his hands on the wall, but was surprised when Cougar went for his shoulders, not his ass or his dick or any of his more interesting body parts. Strong fingers kneaded firmly into his tense muscles until he groaned, then they gentled, and Jake sighed in tandem.

“Uno momento,” Cougar whispered just loud enough to be heard over the shower spray. His hands disappeared for a moment, and Jake bit his lip to stop the sound of protest that wanted to escape him. Then he heard the sharp snap of a cap opening up, and smelled something pungent and floral-fruity. When Cougar’s touch returned to him, his hands glided over Jake’s back aided by body wash. The girls had decided to bring one bottle and share it to increase packing space. Jake had opted for the ‘not exploding’ option and brought a bar of soap. Granted, soap had a way of sticking at the oddest places. The lotion in the body wash worked better for the massage—and Jake knew that was what Cougar was up to now.

Heels rubbed his back on either side of his spine as Cougar dragged his palms lower. Jake found his spine sliding back into alignment, coaxed by clever hands. A few of his vertebrae popped in a way that released the tension that he’d held there. “You can stop that just this side of never,” Jake tried to tease, though his voice was too relaxed to really pull it off. Every syllable came out thick and slightly slurred.

Cougar chuckled, the sound a low burble barely distinguishable from the spray hitting the tub and flowing down into the drain.

It made Jake think of those dumb Zen water fountains, though in that case the hum of the motor annoyed him, overpowering any relaxation he might have felt from the water running over the stones.

There was no motor there in the shower though, just relaxation as Cougar’s callused hands worked the worries out of his back. Lips glided over his shoulder, a gentle caress on his wet skin. There was a brief suction as Cougar’s mouth greeted his neck with a kiss, waking up the nerve endings just there so that the focus of his world became the little patch of skin between those lips. Jake sighed and felt himself melt a little more on the inside, proverbial putty in his lover’s hands. A light tongue licked away the water beaded on the surface and followed the same line that Carlos’ lips had taken just moments ago.

Thumbs dug into Jake’s back, sliding into the large dimples above his ass, pressing hard, forcing a groan from Jake’s throat. He may have been melting on the inside, but a certain other part of him was getting stiffer.

Cougar turned him very gently, slowly, and they kissed as his hands kneaded into Jake’s muscles, rubbing his pecs and his abs, sliding over his hips to grasp his ass, massaging the tight globes until Jake felt a wild flame flicker to life, the glow warming a place inside of him that only Cougar had touched.

His hands grasped Cougar’s long, wet hair, twisting it efficiently and moving it aside so that Jake could touch him unhindered by the heavy length.  Cougar groaned when the firm caress ran down his neck to his back.

They stood embracing under the soothing hiss of the shower spray, lips chasing and connecting, playing tag with each other. Gradually, the chaste moment gave way to the fire within, and Jake licked Cougar’s thicker lower lip, begging for permission. The way opened to him, and he swept inside. Their tongues caressed each other. The texture along his taste buds made him shudder with pleasure. His hands grew bolder and slipped lower. Cougar’s, as a result, went higher, releasing his butt and sliding over his lower back. As he palmed Carlos’ cheeks, the hands on his back stiffened, and he felt Cougar groan into his mouth. The reaction sent some visceral emotion spearing through him, going straight to his cock. He felt the coil of arousal tighten a little more in his gut.

“Hey,” he broke the kiss and whispered, “Can I…?” His index fingertip slipped between Carlos’ cheeks and circled the tight pucker there hesitantly.

A shiver crawled up Cougar’s spine as his eyelids fluttered, and he hissed, “Yes.” Then he caught Jake’s mouth in a fierce liplock, nipping the less experienced man’s upper lip as his finger penetrated shallowly. Cougar was still slick inside from their earlier play, the muscles a little more relaxed than they had been. His hips rolled against Jake’s, eager length bumping against Jake’s and sliding in the pronounced dip of Jake’s hipbone.

There was something so hot about that. Jake moaned, his hips surging back, breathing stuttering at the sensation of his dick rubbing against wet skin. Pubic hair teased his sensitive flesh, and his fingers tightened around Cougar’s ass. Needing more, he withdrew his fingertip, and broke the kiss with a wet smack. “Turn,” he requested, not realizing just how bossy he sounded.

Cougar’s eyes looked glazed, the pupils wide. It made Jake think of opium smokers and the old myth about the Lotus-Eaters. When his back touched the cool tile, Cougar startled, breath escaping in a quick huff as his body adjusted to the temperature. He looked a little more awake after that, and Jake grinned wickedly. Cougar smiled back as Jake’s touches returned to his body, moving them both closer toward the edge of ecstasy. “Keep going,” the older man begged in a rough voice, licking his lips hungrily.

Jake had no intention of denying him.

He parted the shower curtain and reached for the little package on the ledge, tearing the foil with his teeth.

Cougar leaned toward him, mouth settling on his collarbone, nibbling lightly as his hands came to rest on Jake’s wrists. Together they descended, and the dark haired man leaned back to watch as they rolled the condom on Jake’s flushed length. There was something incredibly erotic about watching as their hands drifted lower, working together to do such a simple task. Sometimes, with certain people, taking the time out to see to safety took one out of the moment. It broke the mood. With Jake and Cougar, it was just another part of it, a slight shift into a different gear, no less erotic for the practicality of it.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Jake said when they were done.

Cougar, suddenly straight-faced, replied, “If you drop me, I will kick your ass.” The little twitch of the muscles near the corner of his mouth gave him away.

Jake kissed the corner of Cougar’s mouth right where his amusement was trying to escape, and chuckled. “I won’t, I promise.” Then his arms wrapped around Cougar’s thighs and lifted, and Carlos looped his arms over Jake’s shoulders as his legs curled around the larger man’s waist. It should have felt awkward being cradled like an oversized kid. It didn’t. Jake’s dick brushed his perineum, and he shuddered. There was nothing childish about the embrace.

“Let me know if it hurts, or if I’m doing something wrong, or—“ Jake’s words were cut off as Cougar mashed their lips together.

“You will be fine,” Cougar stated.

There was a brief moment where Jake shifted his grip, balancing Cougar with one strong arm, sliding his other hand between them to position his cock. He pressed Cougar into the tile a little harder as he felt the man’s body begin to slip, and Cougar’s legs and arms tightened on him in response. He felt his tip at the fluttering entrance, and his hips stuttered forward, following a subconscious demand from his brain to slide home. Jake held his breath and bit down on his lower lip as he penetrated.

Cougar’s breath hitched—he felt it in the other man’s chest, heaving against his own.

He shifted his grip again so that Cougar was once more a stable weight in his arms. His Hispanic paramour spared a moment to raise a sardonic brow at him.

“What did I say about dropping me?” Carlos joked dryly.

“Ha, ha,” Jake replied with equal sarcasm, “You try holding a full grown man with one arm, and see how you do.”

Carlos’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed. Jake drew a breath as he felt it travel all the way down Cougar’s body, and into his cock through their joining. “True enough,” Cougar acknowledged, “You’re much stronger than I thought.”

Jake’s hips flexed, impatient with the wait. Another inch was gained. Through gritted teeth, Jake replied, “Yeah, must be all the iron I pump between stints in the comp lab.” He stuck his tongue out at Cougar facetiously.

With a devious look in his eyes, Cougar licked it. Their tongues tangled in mid-air, snakes twining and writhing together, and then Carlos sucked Jake’s tongue into his mouth with a wet slurp, releasing him with a pop.

Jake moaned as the kiss ended. His body thrummed with the urge to move. He wasn’t sure why he was holding back, but he was.

Finally, Cougar angled his body so that his ass dropped a little lower, taking in more of Jake’s length. “Por favor,” the older man licked his lips, “Move.” Hips wiggling impatiently, Carlos made a small sound low in his range, almost a mewl, but not quite.

At that sound, something in Jake broke. His eyes grew wild, and he thrust all the way in until he was balls-deep.

Carlos’ head tipped back abruptly as his eyes squeezed shut. A muffled thud sounded as his skull met the tile, and the tile refused to give way. Neither of them paid it much mind, and when Cougar opened his eyes up again he was smiling. “Good,” he breathed, “It’s good. Keep going.”

Swallowing, Jake nodded his head. He pulled back, feeling his dick being squeezed by Carlos’ inner passage. It was almost too much, tighter than most of the girls he’d fucked. Not that he’d been with a whole slew, but there were enough to form an accurate comparison, and… His mind was spinning, whirling in the moment, in that piece of time. He couldn’t have focused on any one thing, couldn’t have stopped even if he’d smelled smoke or heard screaming. He drove forward into that desperate clutch once again, into an endless black hole. Space: The Final Frontier.

Cougar grunted. “Faster,” he tried to order, but it came out more like a plea.

Jake’s body knew what it had to do even if his mind had temporarily vacated the premises. It fell into a natural rhythm, one he had known instinctively his whole life. It was just like breathing. In, out, rinse, repeat.

Cougar was making noises that Jake had never heard a man make before. Low and high, whining, thick, needy… It sent something primal surging through his veins, and he plunged into his willing receptor with greater urgency. He felt powerful, virile… Cougar surrendering himself like this made Jake feel like he’d just stepped off a cliff to find that he could fly. It was wonderful and exhilarating, and completely mind-blowing. Lost in lust, he latched onto Carlos’ lips with his own, kissing him sloppily. Neither of them seemed to mind. The arms around his shoulders tightened even more as Carlos surged into him eagerly. Mouths became as invested in fucking as the rest of their bodies. Every brush of lips was enhanced by the feel of his prick sliding in and out of Cougar’s tight ass, the pleasure in his balls condensed a little more every time their tongues laved over each other.

It was embarrassing how quickly he came. One second he was fine, and the next he knew the familiar surge had erupted inside of him, taking him by surprise. Jake’s eyes flew open as his body defied his commands to cut that shit out. He made a startled noise and accidentally bit Cougar’s lip. The taste of copper pennies trickled into his mouth.

Cougar grunted at the slight pain, and held on tighter as Jake lost control. He was probably saying a quick prayer that Jake wasn’t about to drop him on his ass in the tub.

Locking his knees, the younger man rode out the waves of his climax. When the last spurt dribbled out of his cock, caught expertly by the condom he wore, Jake let out a shaky breath. He dropped his head to bury his enflamed face in Cougar’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he swore quietly, and then clearing his throat he began in a louder voice, “I’m s—“

“Don’t be,” Cougar quickly interrupted with laughter and happiness in his tone. “The first time is always a little overwhelming, no?”

Laughing weakly, Jake replied, “I guess so.”

“Put me down,” Carlos said kindly, “And we will move locations. The water is growing tepid.”

“Oh, shit.” And for the first time he noticed that Cougar was right, the water was rapidly cooling. The bungalow’s small water heater just couldn’t hold out for that kind of fun and games. Easing Cougar’s feet back down to the tub bottom, Jake felt his penis slip free.

Cougar slithered around him with a touch of his hand across Jake’s chest, passing over his nipple. It was sensitive and made him shudder a little.

Jake turned slightly to peel the condom off, the intimate caress a little too much too soon.

Carlos turned the knobs until the water shut off abruptly.

“Back to the bedroom,” Carlos commanded, slapping Jake’s butt lightly. As he stepped out of the tub, he licked the slowing trickle of blood from his lip with a little grin. It wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured it, but it had been good and fun, and that was what mattered. He spared a glance down toward his turgid member. Oh well.

Jake followed him out right after, wrapping the condom in a tissue and tossing it in the little bathroom garbage can. Then he reached for a towel on the bar, and handed the other to Cougar. “So, uh, I really am sorry—“

“I said don’t—“

“—about the lip,” Jake finished, looking down at the shallow cut on Cougar’s bottom lip. He offered Cougar a small, sheepish grin.

In response, Cougar licked his lip again, and husked, “So make it up to me.” He winked and turned his back, walking back to the bedroom, wrapping the towel around his waist as he went.

Jake was suddenly very grateful his roommates weren’t there as he had the distinct thought that he’d kill anybody who ogled Cougar’s ass the way he did. “Calm down, caveman,” he whispered to himself wryly, and then followed.

He stopped short of the doorway, frozen as he watched Cougar dry his legs off, bent over with his butt in the air.

Peeking between his legs, Cougar chortled at Jake’s expression. “Come on,” he enticed his younger lover, and straightened up. Tossing the towel onto the spare bed, Cougar crooked a finger at Jake. He caught Jake by his towel as the younger man strode into the room, fingers curling over the tucked ends of the terry cloth.

Clearing his throat, Jake admitted hesitantly, “I’m not sure if I can get it up again just now. So…yeah. Nothing too fancy, I guess.” He shrugged with a little half-grin, and Carlos chuckled and nodded.

“Okay,” the Hispanic man agreed, “Nothing… _fancy_.” He maneuvered Jake so that the backs of his knees touched the bed, and with a light shove of his palm, he sent Jake down, holding on to the towel with his other hand. The fabric came unknotted, and Cougar quickly whipped it away, banishing it to the opposite bed with its cabinet-mate.

Jake gulped as Cougar prowled over him, hovering on his hands and knees like some great cat. Their bodies weren’t touching at all, but the look in his eyes touched him with more intimacy than any hand could. It seared him from the inside out. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jake raised one hand in the air. It curved around Cougar’s hip, his thumb finding a home right in the hollow next to the bone. He rubbing his thumb in a circle and was pleased when Cougar sighed, hips shifting forward minutely in response to the stimulation, meager though it was.

“Cougs,” Jake began, “Your voice says ‘simple,’ but your eyes are contradicting that.”

Cougar smirked, and leaned down to lip at Jake’s chin. He chuckled when Jake squirmed and said, “Cougar, what the--?” The rest was lost to a moan as Cougar let his lower body drop so that he was straddling Jake’s groin, and rolled his hips. Sure, Jake wasn’t hard anymore, but he could still _feel_ and receive pleasure from that, and that was certainly…well, it certainly _felt_.

His free hand curved around the opposite hip, and with a little tug, Cougar repeated the motion.

The Hispanic man continued the sweet torment as he nuzzled Jake’s mouth with his. When Jake parted his lips for a taste Cougar denied him, ducking his head to idly flick Jake’s sensitive earlobe with his tongue.

He gasped, arching up as Cougar ground down, and it felt so good that he whispered Carlos’ name in a hoarse plea, unable to string together enough words to make a sentence. In wordless reply, Carlos drew his earlobe in between his lips, nibbling gently, and sucking playfully as he released it. Then he shifted his attention to Jake’s cartilage, running his tongue over the delicate curved shell. The sound of it, so loud, wet and crackling, collided with the feel to make the moment even more exaggerated. A hot lightning bolt shot through his gut, adding to the excitement building there.

“Carlos,” Jake gasped, “I thought this was about getting you off.”

A deep, warm chuckle rolled out of Cougar’s mouth. “This is getting me off,” he purred near Jake’s ear, “Can’t you tell?” With that he thrust his hips pointedly.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, his eyelids fluttering, slamming a hand down on the mattress as a little ball of ecstasy fired off within him, ricocheting like a pinball until it dropped into the place where the rest of the good feelings went. They layered on top of one another, building until they filled up the cup and runneth over.

Then Cougar whispered, “Unless you’d like to try something new?” He pulled back just enough to lock gazes with Jake, his eyebrow raised in question.

Licking his lips, Jake asked, “Like what?”

With a wicked smile, Cougar replied, “Your mouth, my pito. I return the favor.”

“You want to sixty-nine?” Jake clarified with both eyebrows raised up.

“Si.”

“But I…can’t…” Jake’s voice trailed off.

“You will still enjoy it,” Cougar replied, “As will I. If, however, you are uncomfortable with the idea that is alright.”

Hesitantly, Jake admitted, “I’ve never given head before.” He licked his lips nervously.

Not that he hadn’t thought about it. He’d just never gotten around to trying it out. He didn’t think he’d mind though. It probably wouldn’t be too bad. After all, he’d gotten blow jobs before, and he really liked them, and part of it seemed to be more about knowing that your partner was enjoying something than you actually enjoying it. So maybe he wasn’t going to become some dick-sucking maniac superfan, but Jake thought that as long as Cougar liked it he’d do it. Then he wondered if that was how his ex-girlfriends felt about it. Probably. Something about that made him laugh.

Cougar gave him a confused look.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jake murmured, “Just thinking. I’ll give it a try if that’s what you want.”

Pecking Jake on the lips, Cougar smiled and said, “Gracias.” His lean legs shifted as he moved to kneel next to Jake rather than on top of him. “Do you have a preference for position?”

He shook his head mutely in reply. Truthfully, Jake didn’t even know where to start. It seemed like no matter which way he could think of he was courting choking, possibly puking if his gag reflex was triggered. Then he remembered watching Cougar go down on him, and how much the older man seemed to enjoy it. Something warm slithered through his veins at the thought of reducing Cougar to such jelly-kneed satisfaction utilizing the same method.

With a fond look, Cougar suggested, “How about this?” He shuffled around on the bed, turning so he’d presented his back to Jake, and then once more straddled the more inexperienced member of the pair. That time he was higher up, closer to Jake’s pecs, and the he shuffled back until his cock was poised above Jake’s face.

The view was interesting, to say the least. If he was honest, looking at Cougar’s dick so close up was more than interesting. It was…tempting. He found the shape of it, long, not quite thick, but not slender either, the visible texture of the veins underneath the thin skin, that little interesting spot where the flared mushroom-like head met with the shaft, arousing. It was kind of hot looking at that reddened, weeping length amidst the thatch of dark, curly pubic hair as gravity pulled it down and it pointed at his mouth like a primal divining rod. Carlos’ sac looked taut. With a gentle touch Jake rolled them in his palm and carefully pulled them back from Cougar’s body only to massage them into their previous position.

Cougar shuddered above him. He saw it ripple down his Hispanic lover’s tanned muscles, watched as another drop of translucent, milky fluid welled up at the tip of his cock and rolled out, sliding off the head. It landed on Jake’s neck, and he felt it glide down until it disappeared into the sheet underneath him.

Suddenly Jake felt something warm and wet close around his flaccid penis. A tongue slid against him and the cavern became a vacuum. It was almost too much, and he cried out loudly. “Cougar, oh god,” he panted, “How am I supposed to think while you do that?”

An evil laugh vibrated up his body, and Jake squirmed as his head kicked back. When he was able to breathe again, and could open his eyes, and think with at least a little lucidity, he took Cougar’s dick in his hand and stroked up and down very slowly with the kind of pressure that made Carlos groan.

Jake smiled a little at the response, and wrapped his hand around the base, angling the other man’s penis toward his mouth. No big deal, he figured. He just needed to watch his teeth. That was fine. With his hand he could control the depth. He was pretty confident that Cougar wasn’t going to try fucking his face. That seemed kind of impolite, and Cougar, for all his Sex God Among Men ways, was really polite.

Cougar let out a little sound, something like a hiss and a whimper all wrapped up in one.

That was encouraging. Jake took him in a little further, pillowing the soft, spongy head on his palate. He tried to remember what he liked, what felt the best (the answer was almost everything), and imitate it. First he dragged his tongue back and forth, tracing the divide where the bulbous tip met the shaft. He liked the sound that Cougar made around his cock, felt himself beginning to stir though the response was much slower than usual. Next he tried bobbing his head up and down, letting his saliva slick the shaft, moving until his lips touched his hand and then backing off. When that went well, he repeated the procedure until he felt Cougar’s hips shift minutely.

Jake released Carlos’ dick from his mouth with a pop, and traced the thick vein with firm pressure from his tongue.

Cougar squirmed a little, and another sound vibrated through Jake’s body starting at his cock and seeming to come out of his own throat like he was a tuning fork that had been struck.

Finding that the more aroused his lover became, the more aroused Jake himself became. He tongued Cougar’s balls with quick flicks interspersed with more drawn out caresses. The subtle shifting of them under the skin was intriguing, and he made a game of chasing them with his mouth.

When Cougar backed off of his cock and hissed, “Madre de dios, you sure you haven’t done this before?” Jake laughed and pressed a slight sucking kiss to the base of the cock he was attending to.

“Nope,” he chirped, “But I’m glad it’s working.” Then in a quick motion he took the length back into his mouth, and snuck a clever hand up to rub Cougar’s perineum in a long, drawn out circle. His lover grunted and Jake felt a shudder pass through the body above him. Lips kissed the inside of his thigh, and silky hair tickled his skin. Cougar nuzzled his sac, and then like a cool, summer breeze descended onto his length to assuage the heat building within him.

Jake was really starting to get into the whole thing when he heard the front door slam and Faye call out, “Jake? Jakey-Wakey? Pssht, he’s not here.” Jake froze with Cougar’s dick in his mouth, and he felt Cougar do the same. They listened as Faye and Nicki walked through the house. “Mm, I want chocolate chip cookies,” Faye whined, “Nickarooni, will you make me some chocolate chip cookies?”

A heavy sigh, and then Nicki stated, “No. Go puke and pass out. You’re annoying the shit out of me.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Faye pouted. Something bumped and scraped across the floor. It sounded like furniture being moved. A loud chink followed as an object fell onto the ground.

Another sigh crept under the door, and Nicki grumbled, “Come on.” Their voices faded into the distance.

Jake released Cougar very quietly, glancing fearfully at the door. “Sorry,” he whispered, “They were supposed to wait for the signal.”

“The Bat light?” Cougar replied with a heavy note of teasing in his voice after he’d done the same.

Smiling despite himself, Jake answered, “A text.”

Maneuvering off of him, Carlos sat up and looked at him.

“I can’t,” Jake said, “I just can’t with them here. I mean, good god, what if Faye comes busting in here again, and I’ve got your dick in my mouth? How am I even going to yell at her to get out?”

Smiling with a little bit of odd humor, Cougar crawled off the bed and walked to the door, quietly turning the lock into place. He turned around and presented the door knob with elaborate Vanna White hand gestures. While Jake was busy stifling his laughter, Carlos got back up on the bed and straddled him. “Be very quiet,” Cougar warned, and licked his palm. He took both of their lengths in his hands, and stroked up and down slowly.

Jake gasped and raised his hips up involuntarily.

“Shh,” Cougar hissed, and one hand left their members to tweak his nipple in retaliation.

Biting his lip and exhaling hard through his nose, Jake reached down and cupped them as well, his thumb rubbing affectionately over Cougar’s fingers. They worked their shafts as one, and just the sight of it was enough to have Jake curling his toes. He watched the rolling muscles under Cougar’s skin as his body moved with the stimulus, with the feelings building within him. Eyelids fluttered and dark eyelashes veiled his irises from sight. Cougar’s tongue ran over his bottom lip. He bit down as his body suddenly jerked and came.

A stream shot out and hit Jake’s stomach, and then another next to his belly button. He kept stroking, watching as Carlos’ body lost control, and was surprised to feel the familiar tingling of an orgasm building in his own tired limbs. He arched his back, and his mouth dropped open. A groan was ripped from his chest, and he fought to keep his eyes open as the last of Cougar’s come dribbled down their cocks.

Cougar squeezed them, and the simple touch was enough to make him shake once again with aftershocks. Collapsing next to him, Cougar nuzzled Jake’s shoulder and nipped him playfully. “I said ‘quiet,’” Carlos joked.

Still a little blown away by the dry orgasm, Jake just stared at him wide-eyed. His jaw worked, but no sound came out.

Cougar kissed him.

Not knowing what else to do or say, Jake kissed him back.

\---

TBC…


End file.
